


His Deepest Wish

by wife27



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cinderella Elements, F/M, First Time, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Ever After (1998), M/M, Male Cinderella, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wife27/pseuds/wife27
Summary: Aziraphale has accepted his status as servant and expects nothing more from life. Crowley is a reluctant prince who wants to be free from his title. They both find something they weren’t looking for.OrA Cinderella AU.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 182
Kudos: 431
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs, Ineffable Humans AU





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting any of my writing online, so I’m pretty nervous. Also, l don’t have anyone to proofread for me, so if you notice any mistakes please let me know. I hope you enjoy my Cinderella-style story. I plan to post once a week and think this will probably run about 10 chapters. All comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading!  
> Also, this first chapter is pretty dialogue heavy.

“Your mother and I….” King Lucian started.

“Bickered until the day she died!” Crowley spat, the words venom in his mouth.

“Prince Anthony! Your majesty!” Madame Tracy interjected. “There must be a reasonable way to discuss this!”

“Discuss what? He’s trying to marry me away to the highest bidder!”

“Or any bidder!” Lucian exclaimed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. “It is your duty to marry. We could make a valuable alliance with another Kingdom, and you can’t hope to rule the throne as a bachelor!” 

“And why is that?” Crowley snarled.

“Prince Anthony,” Madame Tracy cooed, “Love, the support one can receive from a spouse... it can level us out, keep us grounded, and remind us why our decisions matter. A healthy partnership between you and another could only help the kingdom, and yourself.”

“Exactly!” Lucian replied smugly.

“And,” she gave Lucian a pointed look, “it can be especially helpful when we get to choose that person for ourselves.”

The smug smile slid off of Lucian’s face and he sighed heavily at the implication. “Anthony…. hypothetically speaking, would choosing your potential spouse make this situation any less difficult for all of us?”

Crowley did not reply. Love was a farce. Sure, he loved Tracy, and probably his father, but that ‘bonding of the soul’ cliche was absolute rubbish. “I suppose….if I could make sure this person wasn't a complete prat, it wouldn’t be quite as awful....”

Lucian jumped at Crowley’s forfeiture. “That settles it! By the end of this summer, in two months time, I shall announce your engagement to the entire Northern Kingdom. Whether that be to the person of your choice, or whichever royal which will consider taking you”. Crowley could feel his stomach churn with that last comment. He didn’t need to be reminded of his reputation, but his father strode out of the room before Crowley could make a snide retort.

Tracy gently put a hand on his shoulder. “You know, Love, many don’t have this opportunity.” She laughed when he quirked an eyebrow at her. “To marry, or at least choose who we marry. I know you may see this as a curse, but some would see it as quite the opposite.” 

“Good for those people,” he replied. He swiftly grabbed a cloak and his dark glasses and headed out the castle door. 

\-------------------------------------

’Aziraphale Sant didn’t mind solitude. Quite frankly, in the last ten years he had come to enjoy it immensely. When he was alone and reading, the world could be anything he wanted it to be. Daring knights, loving families, and adventures on the horizon were an all too welcome escape from the mundane life he experienced everyday.

“Azi!” he heard a pounding on the splintered wooden door to his attic room. “Azi! What the hell are you up to? When are you starting breakfast?” Aziraphale groaned and delicately placed a ribbon back into his book. His bed creaked loudly as he shifted his weight. Another beautiful day to be spent serving the household of his supposed family. 

Aziraphale descended the stairs and began his morning routine. Feeding the chickens, collecting eggs, baking bread, picking fruit, setting the table. He sat in the corner of the dining room, eating his bread while his family enjoyed the spread he had made for them. 

Sandalphon made a face. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to enjoy our breakfast with him in the room.” He jerked his head towards Aziraphale. “Do you see how grimey his clothes are? It could make anyone lose their appetite.”

“Not to mention the smell,” Michael added. She turned her head towards him and narrowed her eyes. “When's the last time you took a proper bath?” 

“Michael, Sandalphon, don’t be rude. He may not put the most effort into his appearance,” Gabriel nodded at the slight swell of Aziraphales stomach, “but Azi here is a valuable member of this household. None of the other servants put so much effort into their chores, such as….” Gabriel gave an alarming false smile and pointed at the empty dishes on the table. 

Aziraphale’s eyes prickled as he stood up to take the plates back to the kitchen. How long had it been since he had experienced kindness in his own home? Surely, Gabriel and his step siblings had shown him some compassion after his mother had died and left them this house. He wrapped himself in a memory of her. Hair that was white blonde like his, soft arms, a sweet voice gently reading to him as he struggled to stay awake...He had never known his father, but his mother had always been enough. He had never needed anyone else. It felt like one day Gabriel and his children just appeared out of nowhere. Aziraphale knew he owed his stepfather everything for not kicking him out, which he legally could have done. Surely, this was better than any orphanage. He just wished that things could be different sometimes. 

Aziraphale deeply inhaled the fresh air as he walked outside. He loved tending the garden. Even if his vegetables weren’t the most beautiful in the kingdom, they were sweet and healthy- which is all he could really ask for. He glanced over and noticed that Anathema was also outside tending her herbs.

“Aziraphale!” She sprinted towards him. “I have the best news!” It didn’t matter that she was a baroness and he was merely a servant. They had grown up together and she had always loved him just the same. 

Her beaming, genuine smile for his company made Aziraphale’s heart swell. “What is it, my dear?”

“Books! There’s an auction in the court this evening. They might actually have some occultist texts for my craft!” she squealed. 

“Well, I hope you have fun,” he said, hoping that jealousy was not seeping into his voice. “I have some coins I can give you, do grab me something if you have the chance?”

She quirked an eyebrow above her glasses. “You say that like you’re not coming with me”. 

Aziraphale let out a breathy laugh. “Because I’m not! The court is only for those with a title. I’m not risking my backside to expand my meager library.”

“You have the most posh manners of anyone I’ve met-regardless of status. Change your clothes and presto! No one will ever be able to tell.” 

“But I could receive three days in the stocks!” Aziraphale squawked. “And what would I wear? Really my dear, I’m not short enough to fit into Sandalphone's clothes and I’m a bit… thick for Gabriel’s.”

“I think you already know what to wear.” She gave a warm smile, “Meet me by the creek after you’ve finished making supper for that lot,” she aggressively jabbed a thumb towards the manor, “and we’ll walk there together.” Before he could object, she was running away, waving a hand above her head. “See you tonight!” 

That night, Aziraphale climbed back to his attic room and pulled a box out from under his ramshackle bed. Inside were two waistcoats, pants, and shirts, a jacket, a pair of shoes, and a single blue bow tie. The clothes were out of date and somewhat threadbare, and he loved them for it. They were the only things he had left of his father. He tried on an outfit and starred at himself in the mirror. Smiling, he noticed his curls were brighter now that they had been washed. The sleeves of his shirt were tight from the muscles he’d cultivated after years of manual labor. He realized, with great surprise, that the outfit was actually very flattering. He snuck out the back door and ran out to meet Anathema. Maybe he could do this. 

Really, what were the chances something would go wrong?


	2. Hello, Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would update once a week, but I was really excited to write this chapter.
> 
> I hope y’all are ready for a meet cute!

Aziraphale was delighted to walk through the village. He strolled arm in arm with Anathema, taking in all of the patisseries, apothecaries, and seamstress shops. He walked past the tiny bookstore. Though he enjoyed visiting, it didn’t contain anything that wasn’t already in his own small collection. He visited the village every Saturday when he set up a produce stand in the town market, and it was his favorite day of the week. It was comforting to feel like he was part of something larger than himself. The sense of anonymity that came with the hustle and bustle was freeing. He was just another face in the crowd, no better or worse than anyone else, no impossible expectations he had to meet. 

The stand was one of the few sources of income the manor had since Sandalphon and Michael had yet to get real jobs. Gabriel had taken to selling heirlooms and fixtures for spending money, so Aziraphale tried to make the stand as profitable as possible- meaning he seldom left the market to explore the town. He loved being able to now, especially with his best friend by his side. 

Beneath him, the ground changed from dirt to stone and suddenly they were outside an immaculate courtyard. Aziraphale hesitated. _Lord, give me strength_ , he thought to himself as he stepped under the archway. He immediately noticed the change in store fronts. They were now selling silks and velvets that were emblazoned with intricate embroidery work. Everyone’s clothing was so fine, no holes or patches or stains in sight. The smells of perfumes and spices were in the air. He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes to take everything in. 

“The shop’s over there!” Anathema pointed. She dragged him to a wooden building where a grizzled man stood outside. 

“Getcha paddles for the auction here, then step inside”. Aziraphale obeyed and walked through the door, only to realize Anathema was not behind him.

“Sorry lassy, but no women allowed.”

Anathema bristled and held up a velvet bag. “Good sir,” she said with barely contained malice. “I can assure you that I have plenty of coins with me to purchase texts, and I was allowed in this building just a few days ago”.

“Aye, but that was for the jewelry auction. It’s different shoppin’ for womens stuff,” the man scoffed.

As they continued to bicker, Aziraphale could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck. Anathema could handle herself just fine, and he knew it was best not to draw extra attention to himself, but with the condescending comment of “don’t you have quilt you should be sewing anyway?” that Aziraphale snapped.

“Excuse me, sir, but what seems to be the problem?” 

“This troublemaker is trying to sneak into the building, when I’ve told her no women are allowed for book auctions.” He looked pointedly at Anathema. 

Aziraphale guffawed. “Are you seriously suggesting that she be denied certain areas of life solely based on her sex? That one should not be permitted to certain spheres due to something so arbitrary?” He felt his pulse quickening as he stepped closer to the buffoon that was harassing his friend. 

“Arbitrary!” The man repeated in an offended tone. “I think it’s time for you to back down, son.”

“I will not, you horrid man! An uneducated public is a grievous sin. Reading helps us grow, it allows us to live a more meaningful life. Someone should not be denied that because some thug made a poor judgement call!” Aziraphale’s temper really had gotten away from him. 

“Judgement call! Ha, it’s decreed, boy. Women are fine to stand outside, but there’ll be no buying of books for ‘em by the word of the law. It’d be encouragin’ witchcraft and such.”

The irony that Anathema’s intention was to practice witchcraft was not lost on Aziraphale. He thought for a moment. “Maybe she’s not allowed to purchase books, but there’s no reason she shouldn’t be permitted into the building. As a nobleman, I invited this fine young lady to accompany me,” he waggled his eyebrows cheesily at Anathema, “and I should enjoy her company at this event very much. I demand she be permitted, or…. I shall be forced to take this matter to your superiors.” 

“Fine,” the man spat. “This isn’t worth my time anyways, take her and go inside.” 

To have her admitted with no buying power felt like a small victory, but it was one he took nonetheless. He realized how foolish it had been to make a scene, but he didn’t care. Someone needed to do _something_. He turned his head from side to side to ensure he hadn’t been recognized and thanked the heavens no one in his step family was well read. Once they had both sat down, Aziraphale leaned towards Anathema and whispered, “I’m so sorry about how he treated you, my dear. Let me know when you see something you want and I’ll bid on it for you.”

“Don’t apologize, I should be thanking you for defending the honor of a simple lady like myself." she mock swooned. Aziraphale laughed, he was sure she’d be putting a hex on that man later anyways. 

After the auction had concluded, Aziraphale wandered around the village, then back to the main royal courtyard. Anathema was still deep into a conversation with someone about toadstools, and Aziraphale was in no hurry to get home. 

“That was quite gallant of you.” Aziraphale turned around and came nose to nose with a stranger. A beautiful stranger. So beautiful that Aziraphale could tell he was handsome despite the large black glasses that were obscuring most of his face. 

“Excuse me?”

“Standing up to that dullard, making a speech, causing a ruckus. You could have landed yourself in some real trouble just to allow entrance for a woman. Very chivalrous.” 

Aziraphale huffed. “Just to allow entrance? It’s the principle of the thing. I did what any right minded person would. Reading isn’t a privilege. Everyone, regardless of sex or status should have the opportunity to learn and become educated. The mere idea that someone would disagree is completely ineffable. No matter what this backwards monarchy may think.” 

The man put his hands up in self-defense. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to offend. Soooo, not a fan of the royals then?” His tone was almost amused. 

“How can I be when they allow this nonsense to be tolerated? To hold back another person from an opportunity based on something like gender or title. I mean really, how out of touch can they be?” Aziraphale was speaking with such passion that he could feel his hands shaking.

“You seem to care a lot about this,” the stranger mused. 

“That’s because the educated differ from the uneducated as much as the living from the dead."

“Hmmm…” the stranger hummed. “Wasn’t that said by the same man who wouldn’t let women study at the Lyceum? Surprised you’re a fan of Aristotle with your attitude for gender equality.”

Aziraphale was taken aback. “Well,” he stuttered. “Well... no one is perfect....”

The stranger started laughing at Aziraphale’s blustering and he couldn’t help but join in. 

“I'm impressed, most of the people around here aren’t quick to discuss Greek philosophy.”

“S'not that impressive. I’ve just had enough tutoring to make me very much alive.” 

Aziraphale laughed again and the stranger looked at him quizzically. “Didn’t you buy some books earlier?”

“What?”

“Yes, a couple volumes for yourself, not just the woman you were with. You seemed quite excited when you walked up to grab them, not surprising of someone that's read Diogenes Laertius. Lost them already, have you?”

Aziraphale could feel his ears go red as he whispered, “I gave them away.” 

“You what?”

“I gave them away!” He moaned, pressing his palms into his eyes. “There were these children when I went walking in the village. All the reading material for the entire town is in that rundown scrap of a bookshop, and most people can’t even afford to purchase anything! They asked if they could just look at them, they did have such beautiful covers, and it completely broke my heart. Not everyone has been afforded the same opportunities as myself so I just said ‘here you go, don’t thank me, use them to study or something’.” 

The strangers jaw had gone slack, “Well, aren’t you just a guardian angel”.

“Oh please don’t call me that.” Aziraphale blushed, he didn’t even know this man’s name.

“Then what can I call you?”

What was the harm in giving his real name to this stranger? Anathema was the only one who actually called him by it anyway. “I’m Aziraphale. I’m not from around these parts," he added hastily. "I’m just visiting family this summer.” Dear Lord, he hated lying, but hoped that would explain why he hadn't been seen with the other nobles before. 

“Aziraphale,” he repeated as if he were tasting the name in his mouth, “the Guardian of illiterate orphans. My name is Crowley.” he stuck out a hand. 

“Any relation to the royal Crowl--” Aziraphale was interrupted with the cry of, “Prince Anthony?”. They both turned to see a tall young man in glasses that radiated pure anxiety.

“Shit”. Crowley whispered to himself. “Stay here Aziraphale. I’ll be right back.” 

As Crowley turned, his cloak shifted and Aziraphale could see the embroidered royal crest of a flaming serpent. Realization slowly dawned on him and his heart rose into his throat. _Oh no no no no no_. As soon as Crowley’s back was turned, Aziraphale ran. He grabbed Anathema by the hand, yanking her away from her conversation. “What has gotten into you?" she yelled.  
“Dear girl, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

With his heart racing and his best friend by his side, Aziraphale ran home while feeling a thrill he had never experienced before. 

________________________________

When Crowley had left the castle he was extremely upset with himself. How could he have been bullied into this? He had resolved years ago that relationships were not for him. How was he supposed to find someone he wanted to marry in 2 months? He’d barely found anyone tolerable in the last 27 years! He knew exactly what he needed to do. He sauntered into the closest tavern and drank extraordinary amounts of alcohol. 

He began to sober up around dusk. The sunglasses were now unnecessary, but still somewhat effective at concealing his identity, so he kept them on. He was sure they’d be sending a guard for him soon, probably Newt- the poor bastard. He wandered out onto the street, unsure of where to go next. His decision was made when he heard a yelling coming from a neighboring building.

“I will not, you horrid man!”

Crowley didn’t know what he expected to see as he walked over, but he never imagined it would be the most beautiful man alive. Crowley wasn’t just referring to the shining blonde hair or, _oh Satan_ , those muscular arms. He was transfixed by the passion in his sparkling blue eyes, his full lipped mouth that spoke with such confidence and fervor, his strong hands that waved with righteous indignation as he spoke, and his arse wasn’t half bad either.

Crowley entered the auction house a few minutes later, determined to watch this man for the rest of the evening. The man actually wiggled when he purchased a set of books for himself. How could a body that sturdy manage to wiggle? 

As soon as the auction ended, the beautiful man and his friend walked out of the building. Crowley decided to wait a few minutes and play it cool before attempting to find him. He didn’t want to see too eager. To his dismay, when he exited he found that the man was no longer in the courtyard. He cursed himself and slunk against a wall, only to see the man come around a few minutes later. Crowley hurried up behind him, afraid he would miss his chance. 

Crowley quickly learned that his new friend was not a fan of some of the family policies, which was fair. And it’s not like this beautiful person needed to know who he was right away. He could hold onto his identity a bit longer. His heart sank when he found that this fervent man was not from around the village. _Well_ , he thought, _maybe I can at least make a new friend for the summer. It could be nice having someone to confide in, especially someone so interesting that laughs terrible jokes_. 

They had just finished shaking hands when he heard Newt’s shaking voice “Prince Anthony!”  
Shit. “Stay here Aziraphale, I’ll be right back.”

Crowley turned around when he reached Newt only to find that the angel had already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for reading! All comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated and fuel my life, so feel free to drop a line.


	3. The Soiree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all so much for reading! Life is busy, so updates might slow down to once a week. But honestly, who knows. I’m kind of addicted to writing this. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

It was a sunny day. Aziraphale was sitting in an apple tree, picking the sweetest looking fruit. Anathema stood under him with a wicker basket. After thorough inspection, he passed the apples to her one by one.

“I still don’t know what came over me.” Aziraphale lamented. 

“You didn’t know it was Prince Anthony when you were talking to him.” She raised an eyebrow above her thick rimmed glasses. “But honestly, the bright red hair should have been a giveaway. He has a very distinct look.”

“Well, I’ve never seen him in person before! Believe it or not, servants aren’t generally invited to royal events. Honestly, the portraits don’t do justice to how bea…” he paused “...how unique his appearance is.”

“Unique,” Anathema snorted. “I don’t think you’d still be talking about him a week later if you thought his look was just _unique_.”

Aziraphale huffed, “Alright. I mean, there _is_ a reason he's been pegged as a playboy. I can hardly be the only one who finds him handsome with the number of lovers he’s been rumored to have.”

“Ha!” she barked. “I knew it! If you found him so gorgeous why did you hightail it out of there?” 

Aziraphale cleared his throat,.“Peasant,” he gestured to himself, “and prince, and maybe the fact that penalty of death could literally be on the table for lying to a royal?”

Anathema waved her hand dismissively. 

“Besides, I insulted his entire family... I mean, rightfully so, but still. He probably thinks I’m an absolute bastard.” Aziraphale sighed. “ Thank you again for your help. I don’t know why you are so kind to me.” 

“I only do it because you’re my favorite bastard in the world,” she grinned, “and I get to do this.” She grabbed one of the red apples and took a large bite, juices flowing down her chin. “Oh my God, when you make the tart for the rest of the Archangels please save me a slice.”

“You’ll be the first person I share it with, if I manage to get my hands on any leftovers. They’ll be back from their midweek mass soon. I best be getting a wiggle on.” With a kiss on the cheek, he walked back on the dirt track towards the manor. 

After finishing his baking Aziraphale set the table. He saw Adam, the son of another servant run by. “Dear boy, could you help me with some of these?” Aziraphale’s arms were completely filled with serving plates, trays, utensils, and a teapot. Adam was bright, if not a bit mischievous. Deidre, Adam’s mother, had worked at the manor for as long as Aziraphale could remember. Aziraphale had known Adam since he was a baby, and had always had a soft spot for him.

“Depends, you have any more books me and my friends could borrow?” he smiled. “I loved the one about pirates. I’ll probably be writing my own soon.”

“As long as you let me read it when you’ve finished, and you return the book you borrow in better shape than the last one I gave you,” he replied in a disapproving tone.

Adam nodded. “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t let Brian touch it.” 

Gabriel, Michael, and Sandalphon returned home not long after the table had been set for their afternoon tea. They were all in a surprisingly good mood. They were so busy talking amongst themselves that they didn’t even acknowledge Aziraphale as they walked into the dinning room. 

He caught bits of their conversation, _he’s finally come out of hiding_ and _this is our chance_. 

“Go open some champagne instead of serving tea, Aziraphale. We have a reason to celebrate.” Gabriel grinned.

“Oh, may I ask what the good news is?” He was wishing with all his heart that Gabriel was becoming the viscount of a different town, so Aziraphale could be left to tend to the manor by himself.

“Not that it’s your business,” Michael sneered, “but rumor is, Prince Anthony is looking for a bride!”

“Or groom!”, Sandalphon added, “I heard he’s a fan of both. Not my preference, but could you imagine living in the palace? I’ll be taking my shot anyways.” 

Aziraphale nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“The best part is, hardly anyone knows.” Gabriel said with a self-satisfied smile, “The prince is so reclusive, well except for all the royal trysts he’s supposedly had. It seemed like such a wild rumor at first that I didn’t believe my contact inside the castle, but the King is holding a soiree for all the nobles tonight. Looking for potential suitors must be the reason for the meet and greet.” 

“I guess Prince Anthony also enacted a law allowing the sale of books to all women.” Aziraphale nearly choked again. “Looks like he’s finally getting involved in politics. Getting ready for kingly duties,” Gabriel paused,” Though I’m not sure why he chose that of all things to start with.” He looked at his children. “We need to decide what you’re going to wear tonight. We could be living in the castle instead of this dingy manor. This could be our chance to move up. We’ll need to go over some talking points, it’s imperative you be as charming as possible tonight.” His eyes seemed to go beady for a moment. “Play to the prince’s interests.”

They soon left the table. Later, Aziraphale was washing some of his siblings' finer clothing with a strange feeling in his chest. He couldn’t quite place it. Probably melancholy, but only because he felt bad for Crowley, being manipulated and hunted for sport by his awful step siblings. _That must be the only reason_ , he told himself. Aziraphale sighed again and decided he would spend the evening moping by the duck ponds. It’s not like he had anywhere else he should be.

______________________

Crowley had also been moping for a better part of a week. He’d been in the nobles’ courtyard almost everyday, but had yet to see anyone… interesting. He had asked Madame Tracy if she’d heard of an Aziraphale, but she couldn’t place the name.

“Sorry, Love. There are so many courtiers to remember, I can’t be expected to know all of their extended family. What are the names of the people he’s staying with?”

“He didn’t even say that before he scampered off! He must have realized I’m entirely loathsome when he figured out I belong to the royal family.” 

“Well, do you blame him for running off? The man was probably in shock. It’s not everyday that someone gets to converse with royalty. He was probably just nervous,” she paused, “but you may get to see him at the soiree I’m throwing for you tonight. Every courtier in the village has been invited. It’s set to be quite the social event.”

“You’ve done what?” Crowley growled. “You’re going to make me socialize with all of those awful people!”

“You’ve seemed so glum lately.” She gave him a gentle smile “Maybe that angel of yours will show up.”

Crowley’s cheeks glowed red. “He’s barely a friend, and he’s only staying for the summer," he mumbled.

Madame Tracy smiled. “Of course he is, dear. I think we both have a bit of work we’ll want to do before tonight. I’ll see you at the party.”

______________________

The party was charming. Tracy had truly outdone herself. Crowley’s long, lanky body was tall enough to see above the crowd. So far, there was no sign of angelic blonde hair. Crowley was constantly being cornered by random strangers. All of the conversations blended together in a refrain of _you’re so brilliant your highness, I agree with you, have you always been so smart and handsome and perfect, _and a painful amount of forced laughs. Satan, he hated being sucked up to.__

__A woman with perfectly coiffed hair appeared in front of him. “Prince Anthony, I was so pleased about your decree on book buying. That was very progressive of you. I love reading, so I find it’s such a blessing.”_ _

__“Oh really?” Crowley looked over. Finally, the potential of an interesting conversation. “Your Michael Archangel, right?” She nodded and gave a curtsy. “Lady Michael, what would you say your favorite book is?”_ _

__Michael’s face when completely blank for a moment “uhhhh…” she started, “I would say... the Bible, yes definitely the Bible. Is there a better place to find wisdom?”_ _

__“Sure.” Crowley replied distractedly, having completely lost interest. Damn, so close._ _

__Crowley’s heart leapt when he noticed a tan woman with glasses and long dark hair. "You’ll have to excuse me,” he said while pushing past Michael._ _

__“You.” Crowley said to Anathema._ _

__“Yes, me." She paused in confusion, “How can I help you, your highness?”_ _

__“Call me Crowley. You’re Aziraphale’s friend, yeah?”_ _

__“I guess you could say that,” she replied coyly._ _

__Crowley realized he was definitely coming off desperate. He tried to keep his voice calm and nonchalant. “Any chance he came to the party tonight?”_ _

__She hesitated. “No...he doesn’t know many people here, with him being out of town and all, so he decided not to.” She shot him a wicked grin. “But I bet I know where you could find him”._ _

__Soon after their conversation ended, Crowley (for the second time in a fortnight) grabbed his glasses and cloak and ran out the door. When a tall anxious man in glasses tried to follow him, Anathema pulled him aside for what ended up being a stimulating conversation._ _

__

_________________________ _

__

__It was dusk, but still wonderfully warm outside. After finishing their bread, the ducks had lost interest and flown off. The weather was perfect, so Aziraphale decided to take off his tunic and wade into the lake. He lay there, floating on his back in the crystal clear water. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted with a, “Hullo there.”_ _

__Aziraphale yelped in alarm at the unexpected presence of another person. “Your majesty,” Aziraphale started with a bow and then added in confusion, “don't you have a soiree you should be attending?”_ _

__“Hey, there’ll be none of that your royal blessedness stuff. I told you, call me Crowley.” He waved his hand. “And I had to get out of there. I needed to find someone who would treat me like a real person. I assumed that could be you, unless you decide to flee in terror again.”_ _

__“Oh, well, you can blame me for being surprised.”_ _

__“Yes, I suppose I can’t. I’ve found my title has quite the effect on people. To be honest, I sometimes think I’d be better off without it,” Crowley said while sitting down on the bank._ _

__Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. “How can you possibly say that? Think of all the good you could do for the people of this kingdom. Every title, or lack thereof, comes with its own challenges, but the immense privilege you’ve been given shouldn’t be squandered.”_ _

__“Ha, squandering it, am I?”_ _

__“You know what I mean, dear.”_ _

__Crowley looked at Aziraphale with an amused smile. “I don’t know how you’re able to live with so much passion.”_ _

__Aziraphale stared back at him. “I don’t know how you’re able to live with so little.” Crowley was obviously taken aback by this comment. Aziraphale immediately backtracked, “I’m sorry, that was too bold of me.”_ _

__“No, don’t apologize. S’nice to have someone that’s honest. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been challenged on anything.”_ _

__“Yes, well, I’ve been told I am rather challenging to be with.” Aziraphale gave a small self deprecating laugh._ _

__“I get the feeling anyone would be lucky to be with you.” There was so much sincerity in Crowley’s voice that Aziraphale could feel himself blushing. “Do you mind if I join?” He pointed at the water._ _

__“The land is technically yours, Prince Anthony.”_ _

__He was met with a glare. “Crow-ley. And,” he started in the most pompous tone muster, “and as the crowned Prince of the Northern Kingdom I officially decree that you call me such.”_ _

__Aziraphale laughed “Of course.” Aziraphale bowed cheekily. “Whatever you’d like Crow...” The last syllable died in his throat as Crowley’s long, elegant fingers began to raise the fabric of his shirt, exposing sharp hip bones and the flat plane of his stomach. He honestly looked like he had been chiseled from marble. His wavy, shoulder length red hair blazed like fire in the setting sun, greatly contrasting with his expressive golden eyes. Watching him stretch his slender arms above his head was mesmerizing. Aziraphale became very grateful that most of him was submerged under cold water._ _

__The men swam around, enjoying some lazy conversation and comfortable silences. After some time passed, and some rather extreme pruning had started, they returned to the shore._ _

__“You really believe that?” Crowley asked incredulously._ _

__“Of course I do! What is right and what is wrong is fixed. You’re either breaking rules and moral codes or you’re not.”_ _

__“But there’s loads of grey space out there!” Crowley retorted. “There’s no fixed set of rules that can work in every situation.”_ _

__“I disagree,” Aziraphale huffed and crossed his arms. “I think there are certain rules that are always relevant.”_ _

__“This’ll be rich. Go on then.” Crowley encouraged._ _

__“First, always treat others with kindness.”  
“Unless they’re a prick.”_ _

__“Never cheat or steal.”  
“Unless you really need something, or want to.”_ _

__“Never lie to anyone.”_ _

__“Now I actually agree with that one. I can’t stand being lied to.”_ _

__Aziraphale’s stomach flipped with this. _Ooops,_ thought. _Hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite_. “At least we can agree on something.”__

____“Aziraphale, do you think these rules of yours makes someone good? Makes them happy?”_ _ _ _

____“Would you be cross if I quoted Aristotle again?”_ _ _ _

____“Not in the least. I won’t lie, he had some good points.”_ _ _ _

____“Aristotle teaches that each man's life has a purpose and that the function of one's life is to attain that purpose. When we use our abilities to their fullest potential, to achieve our purposes, we experience happiness from our realized capacities.” Aziraphale hesitated, “I know you probably resent your title, but you should consider yourself lucky. Your purpose has been given to you, to run a country and lead a nation. Accepting your purpose and filling it to the best of your abilities will bring you happiness. Lord knows I would be happier if I had purpose.”_ _ _ _

____“Well, now I am cross at you for quoting rubbish like that. But I guess I do think the purpose of life is to not be miserable.”_ _ _ _

____“And how are you faring at that?”_ _ _ _

____Crowley looked away and moved his beautiful, slender fingers through the sand. “Better, recently.”_ _ _ _

____Aziraphale blushed. Could he really be implying…. ? No, of course not. He must be misinterpreting what Crowley meant, so he decided to change the subject._ _ _ _

____ _ _ ____“My mother had always raised me to believe the best in people; that if you do right by them, they’ll return the courtesy. And that even if they don’t, you could take pleasure in knowing that at least you were good and you could find happiness in that.”_ _ _ _

____“She sounds like a bright woman.”_ _ _ _

____“She was,” Aziraphale said dreamily. “She would always read to me. She loved books about science, philosophy, and occasionally even fiction. I guess that’s where I gained my love of the written word.” It had been so long since he had talked about his mother to anyone. It felt good. “I would give up anything to hear her voice again, or her laugh! Also, she had the most wonderful smile, it would light up an entire room.”_ _ _ _

____“Now I know where you get your angelic nature from.” Crowley kept his eyes on the lake. “I’m sure you remember when my mother passed a few years ago. My father had the whole kingdom in mourning attire for a month.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, I do remember. I heard she was always extremely benevolent. I’m sorry that you lost her.”_ _ _ _

____“She hailed from the Southern Kingdom, so she was a bit more open minded about certain things than we are here. Tracy has been more like a parent to me than anyone else since then. She’s certainly given me more guidance and love than my father.”_ _ _ _

____Aziraphale could feel his heart clench in his chest. Crowley’s father, the King. Aziraphale had forgotten who he was talking to. Someone who would never be speaking to him or saying such kind things if he knew who Aziraphale really was. Poor, no title, no value, nothing to give to anyone else. A bookish recluse that didn’t even have a family that loved him. Aziraphale had gotten caught up in the moment, pretending he was a foreign courtier. Pretending that he had the right to an opinion on anything._ _ _ _

____He looked up at the stars and gave a shuddering breath. “Oh, well I think we’ve lost track of the time, your maj.... Crowley. I better be off.” He gave a bow and began to turn, until he felt a hand grab his arm._ _ _ _

____“Please let me escort you, I’d love to meet this family you’re staying with. Speaking of which, you still haven’t given me their names so I can call upon them. I’d like to thank them for hosting the most interesting person I’ve met in sometime.”_ _ _ _

____“No!” Aziraphale said hastily. “Coming along won’t be necessary. They’ve been very sick,” he ad-libbed. “Probably contagious. Hate to spread something around.”_ _ _ _

____Crowley’s face fell. “Maybe some other time then?”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, that would be absolutely tickety-boo! See you then!” Aziraphale was practically running now, and gone before Crowley could ask for his address, a time, or a place. _Why does he keep doing that?_ he thought to himself. Crowley left feeling somewhat confused, but considerably lighter than he had before._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave comments. They make me happy :)


	4. A Rendezvous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Your comments and kudos mean so much to me.

King Lucian was seething. He paced through the throne room while staring at his only son. “After all the work Tracy put into that party, for you to just run off and do God knows what....”

“Now, your majesty, Prince Anthony said he was feeling ill that evening. All of the courtiers understood why he needed to step out. No harm was done.” Tracy gave Crowley a small smile. 

“Like hell he was ill! Those damn glasses you wear when you're trying to sneak out were missing from your room, as were you!” King Lucian sighed deeply. “I thought giving you a choice in this marriage business, rather than picking someone for you, would make you take this more seriously. If this is all too much, I have no qualms about making an alliance with…”

“No!” Crowley replied hastily. He cleared his throat. “No, I mean, I apologize father. I will take this more seriously. I’m sorry for leaving. It was just a lot of people at once. I was….overwhelmed. Needed to be alone out in the gardens for a bit. Calm my nerves.”

Lucian eyed him shrewdly. “You’ve been invited to the Archangels for lunch tomorrow. The Viscount Gabriel has two eligible children. Prove you want to take this seriously by dining with them. Gabriel said he invited you because Michael enjoyed conversing with you at the party. She said you two had quite the chemistry.”

Crowley felt he shared as much chemistry with her as he did a wet carrot, but if this is what he needed to do… “Fine,” he groaned internally. “I’ll be there.”

Tracy walked with Crowley back towards his bedchamber. “So,” Tracy began, “would you like to tell me what you were really doing the other night, or would you prefer to keep it a secret?”

Crowley knew there was no point in lying to Tracy. She was one of the very few people he trusted and he felt like he needed to talk to someone about the events that had taken place three evenings ago. He began explaining everything. 

“And we were having such a good time! At least, I thought we were, I know I was. He literally ran off out of nowhere.. Again!” Crowley desperately ran his fingers through his dark red hair. “ He obviously doesn’t want me to find him. I guess I just can’t take a hint,” he said while giving Tracy a dejected smile.

“I think usually you can take a hint, but I don’t think that’s the case here.” She hesitated. “There might be something holding him back, but I doubt it’s his affection for you.” She ran a thumb across his sharp cheekbone. “I think anyone that takes the time to really know you must realize how special you are.”

He leaned into her warm touch. “It’s just that I’ve never felt more myself than when I’m with him. He’s intelligent, and kind, and isn’t afraid to challenge me. I feel like he sees past the title when we’re talking, that he sees me as a person not just the Prince of the North. It’s thrilling and terrifying at the same time.” 

“Being known is scary business. I know the last time you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, well,” she wavered, “this one sounds different.”

“He is,” Crowley smiled. “He really is.” 

______________________

“I ran because I could be hanged for lying!” Aziraphale protested. 

“That’s bullshit. What were you lying about? Everything you’ve told him has been honest- except your household and status.”

“And that is the most important thing to these people!”

Anathema eyed him incredulously. “Do you really think your prince is run of the mill royal?”

“He’s not _my_ prince, but I suppose not,” Aziraphale acquiesced. “But still, the whole thing is too risky. Gabriel has invited him over for lunch today.”

“He what?! Any reason you’ve avoided telling me until now?”

“Because you have the amazing knack to meddle in everything. I intend to be hiding in the kitchen the entire time. I can only imagine what would happen if he caught sight of me. He’s so clever. He’s bound to figure things out if we keep having these rendezvous .”

Anathema huffed indignantly. “If I didn’t meddle then your life would be extremely boring.”

“Maybe I like it boring.” Aziraphale knew he was lying to himself. The last few weeks had been the most thrilling in his life. He never thought he would find another person whose company he enjoyed as much as Anathema’s.

“I best be going. Deidre has helped me prepare most of the food, but I should bring back these herbs for garnishing. Thank you for letting me…”

He was cut off by the sound of hoof beats. The prince’s carriage had arrived early. Aziraphale threw himself behind a large bush _oh fuck_. Anathema sprinted towards the carriage.

“Your highness,” she bowed.

“Baroness Device?” Crowley replied in shock. “You live with the Archangels?”

She laughed. “I live next door, actually.”

Crowley’s eyes looked desperate. “This is fate, yeah?”

“To what are you referring to?” she replied in an outrageously oblivious tone. 

“Please, please I need to find him. You must realize you’re my only connection.”

Anathema could see Aziraphale in his hiding place. _No!_ he gestured wildly _Don’t do it!_

“He’s not with me right now, but I’m supposed to meet him in a few hours at the Flaming Tavern a village over, you know the one?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

“I’m actually feeling rather ill.” She gave a pathetically fake cough. “You’d be doing me a great service by meeting him there. You could let him know I can’t make it, maybe give him some company.”

Crowley’s face split into a wide grin as he deeply bowed and kissed her hand. “I’d be happy to help.” He walked inside the Archangel manor.

“You wicked, wicked girl!” Aziraphale scolded after Crowley had disappeared. “What have you done!” 

“I’ve given you a head start.” She gave a devilish laugh, “After you change out of those clothes, you can take my horse.” 

______________________

Crowley’s heart was soaring. He could definitely handle a few hours with the Archangels now that he had something to look forward to. After some very formal pleasantries, Crowley sat down at an expansive dining table.

“So,” Gabriel began, “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

“Is that so?” Crowley turned to Michael. “Do tell.”

“It’s widely known that you’re an expert horse rider. I absolutely adore my stallion. There’s nothing I enjoy more than riding. Except reading,” she added hastily. 

“Yes,” Crowley said. He was a rather good rider, but he found the whole thing very uncomfortable. “I’ve had many riding lessons.”

A painful silence ensued until the food arrived. 

“This is exquisite.” Crowley rarely had an appetite, but the tart he was eating was simply divine.

“We heard you were a fan of apples,” Gabriel nodded. “This is Michael’s favorite dish as well.”

“What an amazing coincidence.” Crowley was trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He had no idea if he was successful. “I’d actually like to give my compliments to your cook, if that’s alright.”

“You are so gracious, your highness. Willing to interact with the help- you truly are a marvel.” Michael grinned. “Go on, fetch him from the kitchen," she barked at another servant.

Deidre Young appeared, giving a deep bow. “Apologies, it's just me." She bowed again at Crowley and Gabriel. “Z wasn’t feeling well, so he’s up in his room.”

“You must give him my compliments when you get the chance. I’d be delighted to have such an extraordinary meal again.”

Gabriel jumped on the opportunity. “Then it’s decided, you’ll stop by for dinner another night!”

“Yes, that would be fine, but I must be leaving now.”

“So soon?” Gabriel looked crestfallen. 

“Afraid so, many princely duties to attend to and such. Look forward to seeing you all again,” he lied while bustling out the door. “ta-ta.”

Crowley had a place he needed to be, and he had no desire to bring the carriage or Newt along.

“Newt, I need a favor. I have to borrow one of the horses from the carriage, it’s...”

“Sure.” Newt waved a hand, not bothering to look at him. He continued to stare at Anathema. “That is, if the baroness doesn’t mind keeping me company in the meantime.”

She looked back at him. “I think I can manage that.”

Crowley didn't question this opportunity for freedom and galloped away. He didn’t even mind the pain on his buttocks.

______________________/p>

Aziraphale’s heart was beating quickly as he pretended to look surprised by Crowley's arrival and explanation of Anathema’s absence. Aziraphale bought him a pint of mead. “It’s the least I could do for my appalling behavior from the other night, for the way I left.”

“I wasn’t going to mention it, but I’m beginning to wonder if you hate my company.” Crowley tried to keep his voice light and joking, but it betrayed a hint of nervousness. 

“Quite the opposite. I enjoy it very much,” Aziraphale replied honestly.

The relief on Crowley's face was evident and he relaxed into an impossible position. “So, would you like to explain the disappearing act then? Or will I have to rely on the Baroness Device every time I want to see you? ” 

Aziraphale hesitated. “You’ll just have to trust me when I say there’s a reason I don’t want you to call upon the house I’m at.”

_Oof, they must really hate my father_ Crowley thought. 

“I know it’s strange, but not knowing where I live would have to be a condition of our friendship- assuming you’d like to be friends. Do you think you can respect that? I understand if not, it’s a rather large request.” Aziraphale’s heart felt like a raisin in his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to.” Crowley shrugged. Aziraphale’s relief mirrored the kind Crowley had shown moments earlier.

“So,” Crowley began to change the subject, “What’s so special about this tavern that you and Miss Device come all the way out here?”

“Well, other than the exceptional food, there’s a badminton net out back. It’s one of the few places that will let Anathema play.”

“Fan of badminton? I wouldn't peg that as your sport.” Crowley felt he was using the term sport very loosely. 

“I’m partial to fencing, but my epee was sold quite some time ago.” He shook his head at the memory. There was no need to think about what Gabriel had given away for spending money. “Plus, it’s one of Anathema’s favorite activities.”

“Fancy a match? Maybe I can help you practice for the next time you play against the baroness.”

“Dear, I doubt anyone could challenge me as much as Anathema, but you are welcome to try.” 

After half an hour both men were sweating heavily and out of breath. How did this sport have so much running? Aziraphale was winning by 5 points, and was only 2 away from finishing the match.

“Hold on, hold on a bit.” Crowley was panting. He bent over, resting his palms on his knees. “You know, if you win it’s because I can’t see with all this blasted long hair in my eyes.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Aziraphale hummed.

“It’s true!” Crowley protested. “And unfortunately, I don’t have any ribbon to hold it back. If you win, that’ll be the reason why. A rather hollow victory, if you ask me.” 

Aziraphale tutted. “I intend to whoop you fair and square. Come here and I’ll fix it for you. I’m rather good with braids. It won’t fall out.”

Aziraphale gestured for him to sit down on a nearby bench. Crowley obeyed. Was this something normal friends did for each other? “Sometimes I wonder if I should just cut it all off.”

“No!” Aziraphale responded hastily. “I mean, it’s such a rare and lovely color. It’d be a shame if you didn’t… show it off.”

“It’s the color my mother’s was. Much more common in the South.”

“Do you visit the other kingdoms often?”

“Not anymore,” Crowley responded in a tone that suggested he was finished discussing the topic.

Crowley was deep in his own thoughts until Aziraphale scratched his nails against his scalp. It sent shivers down Crowley’s spine and it took everything in his power not to moan. He felt his entire body warm and relax as Aziraphale’s gentle fingers carded through his hair. 

“Where did you learn to do this?” Crowley was hoping a conversation would provide some type of distraction from the inconvenient wave of pleasure he was feeling. 

“Well, my mother taught me when I was younger. I’ve been able to hone this skill by practicing on Adam.”

“Who’s Adam?” Crowley said defensively before he could stop himself. Whatever he had felt before was suddenly replaced by jealousy. _Where did that come from_ he thought to himself. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “He’s the son of a servant in my household. His hair is long, so it’d be matted otherwise. His mother lets me do it since I know the french style. Adam is probably the most curious 10 year old I’ve ever met, he’s constantly borrowing my books.”

“You sound very fond of him. I mean, you must be if he’s allowed to borrow your precious books.”

“I did teach him how to read. It’s the least I could do now.” 

“Wait, you taught him how to read instead of his tutor?”

Aziraphale stared at him. “Crowley, he’s a servant's child.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think most servants can afford any type of education? I told you before, most can’t even afford second hand books.”

“I guess I haven't put too much thought into the lives of the underclass. I’ve never met a noble that cares about them as much as you do.”

“Why shouldn’t I care? It’s the underclass that allows this kingdom to survive. It’s the underclass that grows and tends your crops, cooks your food, mends your clothes. How could you _not_ care for them?” Aziraphale’s tone had grown sharp. Aziraphale knew why this conversation had upset him so much. It was just a reminder that nobility didn’t think about, let alone associate, with his kind. Aziraphaled let out a deep breath. “I should go.” 

“Wait! I do care for them. I care about all the citizens. It’s just not something that’s crossed my mind before.” His voice faltered. “Please don’t leave. I’ve upset you and I apologize, but please stay, even if you think I’m a right idiot.” Crowley didn’t even care that he had resorted to begging. He wasn’t going to let Aziraphale run off again. 

Aziraphale gave a sad smile. “Believe me, I don't think you're an idiot. You're probably one of the most sharp-witted men I’ve met, it’s actually quite maddening. Also, you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry, I guess my mouth has just run away with me again.”

“Nothing to apologize for Angel, it’s your mouth that has me hypnotized.” 

Aziraphale flushed with the comment and quickly finished the braid in silence. “How about instead of finishing the match, we grab something to eat. I know a place with amazing brioches just down the street.”

“You read my mind.” Aziraphale smiled, his cheeks still burning. 

\--

Hours filled with drinking, eating, laughing, and more drinking passed. 

“Pears? Really?” Crowley smiled. 

“I think they are delicious! If you don’t it's because you haven’t had them cooked properly. You must let me make them for you.”

“I’d like that,” Crowley stretched. “I have to get back to Newt.”

“I understand.” Aziraphale bowed. “As always, it was a pleasure to be in your company.”

Crowley stared at him. “I have a place I want to take you. Are you free this Saturday?”

Aziraphale, and the bottle of wine he consumed, had come to the conclusion that there was no harm in garnering an innocent friendship with the prince. Aziraphale was lonely, and it seemed that Crowley was too. What was the harm in keeping each other company? Aziraphale remembered that Saturday was the day he ran the produce stand. “Not Saturday, but I’m free Sunday.”

“Sunday? Not religious then? I thought angels had to be devout.” 

Aziraphale blushed at the use of his nickname. “I’m devout in my own way.” 

“I’d ask if you wanted me to pick you up, but I’m guessing you’d like to meet me there?”

“If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” Crowley beamed. “It’s a date.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he hoped that were true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed from the tags, I’ve drawn a lot of inspiration from Ever After, so I had to steal one of my favorite lines XD. You might notice a few more quotes in the upcoming chapters. Things will start heating up for the boys soon, but keep in mind that Aziraphale is an idiot.


	5. A Fire Burns Inside Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowzah, two chapters in 24 hours.This chapter’s a little shorter, which is why it was quicker to write. The next one is expected to be longer.

King Lucian whispered to Tracy, “He’s whistling? When's the last time you’ve heard him whistle?”

“I’ve actually never heard him whistle before, Sire.”

Lucian gave a surprised _hmpf_. “Things must have gone well at the Archangel’s.”

“Or with a certain angel,” Tracy smiled to herself. “I know you’ve been worried about Anthony, but I think he’s going to be okay.”

Lucian shrugged. “It’s just good to see the boy happy for once.”

Moments later a beaming Crowley walked up to the pair. “Father, I have a request and I think you’ll find it’s an excellent idea.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gabriel was also whistling as he approached his children. “I’ve just talked to my contact at the castle, it seems the prince is completely besotted with ‘an Angel’. It must be you!” said while point at Michael. “Michael Archangel, we’re the only Angels in the whole town. I knew that inviting him over for lunch was the perfect plan.” He was practically dancing.

Aziraphale entered the room with tea and noticed all the excitement. “Should I grab the champagne again?” he said confusedly. 

“Why not? We have even better news to celebrate! Prince Anthony is enamored with Michael.” Gabriel swung his arms around his only daughter. 

She stiffened at the rare display of affection. “Father just got word from the castle. I suspect I’ll get a proposal at the end of the month before the masque.”

Aziraphale’s smile began to slip from his face, just as his heart began to slip into his stomach. “Masque?”

“The party King Lucian is throwing is a masquerade. My sources say it’s when he’s set to announce the prince's engagement. The whole Kingdom is invited!”

“Except your lot,” Sandalphon added. 

“That’s wonderful.” Aziraphale was attempting to sound cheery, but his voice had gone tight. “I guess your lunch must have gone very well.”

“It did, no thanks to you,” Michael scoffed. “I bet you were pretending to be ill so you could go read your books.”

“Or because he was embarrassed to let the prince see him on those rags,” Sandalphon snickered.

In all honesty, Aziraphale would have been quite embarrassed for Crowely to see him in his normal clothes. He thanked God his mother left him some of his father’s to wear. 

Later, Aziraphale was deep in thought as he made his way to the produce stand. He must have been misinterpreting things. Regardless of Crowley’s affections for Michael, he was still an excellent friend. An excellent friend who was funny, witty, kind, charming, handsome…. _no_ he stopped that train of thought. Crowley was in love with Michael. Michael who had a title and money and a family. Aziraphale had to respect that. He just wanted Crowley to be happy. It was all probably for the best anyways. When his step family moved away to live at the castle, Aziraphale could take care of the manor. He could finally turn things around and treat the remaining servants right. He’d be ok on his own, just as he had been before. Still, he wasn’t able to stop the gnawing feeling that was taking over his chest.

______________________________________________________________________________

It was Sunday and Crowley’s heart was fluttering as he approached the monastery. Aziraphale was already outside waiting for him. He was wearing a bow-tie that brought out the brilliant blue color of his eyes.

“I’m glad you made it,” Crowley said, unable to surprise a smile. 

“I promised I’d be here, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did, and I’m guessing that blasted ‘moral code’ of yours doesn’t let you break promises.” Crowley teased. 

“I’m afraid not.” Aziraphale stared at the outside of the building. “So, is this your attempt to try and make me a man of the cloth?”

“Ha! Hardly. Sorry Angel, but I’m not that good of an influence.” He put his hand on Aziraphale’s lower back. “Let me escort you inside.”

Aziraphale was completely distracted by Crowley's touch, so much so that it took a few moments for him to realize they had stepped inside of a vast library. Every wall was completely covered with shelves bursting with manuscripts. 

“I’ve never seen so many books in my life!”

“You like it?” Crowley’s smile had gone warm and gentle, he almost looked nervous. 

Aziraphale threw his arms around Crowley, embracing him in a tight hug. “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Go ahead and take one, any one that you want.”

“I could no sooner choose a star from the heavens,” and Aziraphale was looking at Crowley as if he had hung the stars in the heavens. 

After an extended period of wandering filled with _ohs_ and _ahhhs_ and _look at this!_ Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a bench. “Sit with me, I have something to tell you.” 

Aziraphale stared at him, wide eyed. _Is this where he tells me he’s found a woman he wants to marry? That I’ll be seeing less of him?_ Aziraphale noticed that Crowley’s hands were shaking, he was obviously very nervous.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to build a library for this town and a university for the kingdom. A university where anyone can study, regardless of who they are.”

Aziraphale felt as though all of the air had escaped his lungs. “What?”

“I know that doesn’t completely address the problem of education, for younger children at least, but I figure it’s a start. I want you to help me. We could figure this out together.” He stared deeply into Aziraphale’s eyes. “We could build a real educational system for the people in the kingdom. Us and my fathers advisers, of course. I already talked to him and he thinks it’s a wonderful idea. ”

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand. Now Aziraphale was shaking. His voice was thick with emotion. “Really? You really want to do this?” He was on the verge of tears. “Why with me?”

“Why not with you?” He gave Aziraphale’s hand a squeeze. “Angel, you must know that this is all because of you. I’d’ve never had this idea if it weren’t for you.”

“Because of me? Crowley, you would have come up with this idea eventually. You don’t need me for this.” 

“Here’s the thing, I really wouldn’t have! Thought of it on my own, that is. The way you’ve talked about the people of this kingdom; their needs, their rights…I realized I was doing them a great disservice. I used to be scared to care about anything." He gave Aziraphale’s hand another squeeze. “Now I’m realizing I shouldn’t be scared anymore. You’ve lit a fire inside me, Aziraphale.”

“Oh Crowley, I can’t imagine you fearing anything.”

“But I do… I’ve been hurt before,” he faltered. “By people I care about. I’ve had a hard time trusting since then. I’ve had a hard time caring about _anything_ since then. Can’t get hurt if you’re not invested, a bit of basic self preservation rubbish.” 

Aziraphale could see the sadness in Crowley’s eyes and his affection turned to anger. Who would be evil enough to hurt this beautiful man? Aziraphale put a soft hand on Crowley's jaw and he could hear Crowley’s breath catch. “I told you I was good with an epee, give me a name and a sword and I’ll be sure you get a proper apology.”. 

Crowley gave a short laugh and wiped his eyes. “I’m not sure how going after the Prince of the West would work out for you.”

“What?”

“Surely you must have heard the rumors about me.” Aziraphale gave a short nod, he wanted to avoid lying to Crowley whenever possible. He wanted to be worthy of his trust.

“Yes, I’m the playboy prince, prince of seduction, the sex maniac that could never be faithful to anyone.” He scoffed. “All awful rumors. We were in love, at least I thought we were. I planned on proposing, had a whole speech prepared for my father. I was going to have him write up a treaty to make it official, but before that happened we were caught together.”

“Caught?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and let out a heavy breath.

“ _Oh_.”

“Yeah, _oh_. The Western Kingdom is probably the most conservative kingdom anywhere around here, maybe anywhere period. Our kind of relationship was extremely taboo. They’re the ‘sex is left for marriage and exists for procreation lot’. They wanted to preserve the prince’s dignity, so the Western King’s advisors started claiming that I was a master of seduction and that I took advantage of him,” Crowley was visibly upset, “that I had confused him. He just went along with it. He told everyone I had tricked him, tempted him.” Crowley paused to regain composure. “He told me he loved me. I wanted to believe it so badly, that someone was capable of feeling that for me.” Aziraphale’s thumb brushed a tear off Crowley's cheek. 

“That man is the biggest fool in the world for hurting you. His loss, truly.“

“I think things worked out for the best,” Crowley continued. “I don’t love him anymore. Honestly, I’m not sure if I ever _really_ loved him. I was so hurt and jaded after everything that I stopped believing in it all together. The idea that people certain people belong together and had red strings connecting them, that they could share a heart and soul and overcome anything as long as they had the other person by their side. It all seemed impossible.” Crowley was looking away from him. “Now I’m starting to think I believe again.”

Aziraphale was also looking away. “Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. Crowley, I’m sure you’ll find it if you just keep singing.”

“So now you’ve switched from Aristotle to Plato?”

“What can I say,” Aziraphale grinned. “I like music.”

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“Thank you for sharing your story with me, I know it must not have been easy.” 

“Been awhile since I've talked about it, but that’s probably obvious based on how worked up I managed to get.” He gave a self depreciative laugh. 

Aziraphale hesitated. “I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you to hear that reading calms my nerves.”

“No, it wouldn’t.'' Crowley laughed.

“Would you like me to read to you?”

Crowley gave him a warm smile. “More than anything.” 

As Aziraphale read, Crowley's head eventually found its way into Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale’s fingers ran through his long, wavy hair. In that moment each man felt truly free, and each hoped the other felt the same way. 

“Would you consider doing this again next week?” Crowley asked hopefully. 

“I would enjoy that very much.”

Crowley gave a deep bow and kissed the inside of Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale’s palm raged with the same fire he felt in his chest. He knew this feeling was dangerous, that it couldn't last, but when had any of the good things in his life lasted? He would enjoy this while he could. He would enjoy it until Prince Anthony was married to his undeserving sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Your comments and kudos mean everything to me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to let me know what you think.


	6. A Sky Full of Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be one very long chapter, but I’ve decided to break it up into two instead. Take note of the rating change, we are now entering the Mature Zone™ . There will be some sexual content at the bottom. I will indicate the start of it with a * and it goes until the chapter finishes. There are no huge plot points, so feel free to skip if it makes you uncomfortable.

Crowley and Aziraphale were enjoying one of their Sunday afternoon reading sessions. They saw each other during the weekdays (sometimes playing badminton with Anathema, lazily swimming, or simple lunches), but this was always Crowley’s favorite activity. Mostly because he was able to lay his head on Aziraphale’s soft lap while his fingers carefully worked through his auburn hair. Aziraphale would trace his forehead along the lines of his scalp, caressing the sides of his face so gently, like he was the most delicate thing in the world. If he were lucky, Aziraphale would sometimes offer to plait his hair. 

Crowley had thought about cutting his hair before, but decided that would never happen now. As long as a gorgeous blonde was willing to give him this much attention over it, he’d be willing to grow it down to his waist. Crowley also loved Sunday because he could witness the excitement on Aziraphale’s face as he chose a new book. Hearing Aziraphale’s kind, proper voice read to him was as close to heaven as he could imagine. Well, there were a few more heavenly things he could imagine doing with Aziraphale, but he didn’t want to push it. What if Aziraphale rejected him? What if it scared him away? What if he prematurely ruined the best thing in his life? Crowley was aware that the clock was running out, but he needed to be patient. 

Crowley knew that Aziraphale enjoyed the time they spent together; how else could he explain all the laughing, hair touching, and sly smiles tossed his way? But Crowley also knew that Aziraphale was holding back. Not knowing his household had been an early condition of their relationship, but Crowley was growing nervous. Why didn’t his best friend trust him enough to share that secret? What could he be hiding? Crowley waived away those thoughts. Aziraphale was an angel, he had to trust his judgement. 

“I’d like for you to come to the castle and meet Tracy.” 

“The castle?” Aziraphale went white. 

“Yeah, you know, that place I live. Maybe I could even introduce you to my father”. 

“The king?” Aziraphale somehow went whiter. 

“Yes, my father is the king, that’s why I’m the prince.”

“No need for cheek,” Aziraphale scolded. “Tracy sounds lovely, I would be happy to meet her. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit hesitant about meeting…. anyone else.” 

“Alright, let’s go today then.”

“What?” Aziraphale could only imagine how idiotic he sounded giving surprised, one word answers.

“The old man is visiting some Duke or whatever and is out. It’s perfect timing, really.”

“I guess, if you think it’s a good idea,” Aziraphale said nervously. 

“I do. Plus, you still owe me one of those pear dishes you promised.”

“I’m surprised you still remember that.”

“Like I could forget anything you’ve said. I think all of our conversations are burned in my brain.” He hastily added, “You know, because you’re such a good conversationalist.” _Smooth_. 

“Of course, dear.” Aziraphale gave a smug grin. 

They rode Crowley’s horse back to the castle. Aziraphale held onto him tightly as they bounced through the woods. “For the love of God, slow down!” 

“Sorry Angel, this is just part of riding with an expert.” He sped up. If someone was standing out in the woods alone, they were really asking to be bowled over. Also, he wasn’t taking the chance that Aziraphale would loosen his grip if he relaxed his pace. 

They arrived at the palace and saw Newt outside the main gate. Newt was always delighted to see Aziraphale, but mostly because Anathema would sometimes tag along. “Did you happen to bring Anathema with you?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Newt tried to hide his disappointment. “That’s alright.” He paused for a moment. “Out of curiosity, does she ever talk about me?”

As a matter of fact, Newt had dominated most of the conversations Aziraphale had had with her recently. “Yes, she says you are quite handy at stirring potions.”

Newt sucked in a breath. “Oh thank God.”

Crowley, hoping to shake this potential third wheel, leaned forward. “I think she’s home alone right now. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind your company if you-”

Newt was already scampering away. “Thank you for the day off, your highness!”

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told him to call me Crowley,” he sighed in annoyance. “I think you’re the only person that actually respects my wishes on the matter.”

“I was given a royal decree, remember? Also, before meeting Tracy I’d like to use your kitchens. I could make the pear tart you wanted first. I know how important she is to you and I’d like to make a good first impression.”

“I wouldn’t worry about impressions, you’ve both got that inner glow thing going on. I’m sure you’ll fit right in together. Plus, I can’t imagine anyone has ever disliked you.”

Sadness flickered in Aziraphale’s eyes and his smile faded away. “Well, no one can be liked by everyone, regardless of glow.” Crowley clenched his jaw at his reaction. He loved to see Aziraphale’s smile, that’s why he took him out to eat so often. He would light up and do that happy wiggle he’d first noticed at the auction all those weeks ago. Had Aziraphale only entered his life this summer? Crowley already knew he wanted him to be a permanent fixture. The problem was, how do you ask someone you’ve never properly snogged to marry you? Or tell them you wanted to make them smile forever? No one outside the castle was supposed to know about the upcoming engagement announcement. Crowley had casually brought up the masquerade on multiple occasions, but Aziraphale had always managed to change the subject. 

Crowley put a hand on his shoulder. “I might not be skilled with an epee, but I can also force out a proper apology if you need one.”

Aziraphale’s smile returned as he laughed. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but I appreciate your willingness.”

Crowley dismissed the cooks as they entered the kitchen. He turned to Aziraphale and noticed he was in a state of shock. “This is amazing! I’ve never worked in anything like this before. Oh my, you have six cast iron stoves! These counter tops are so spacious. Ah! How is it possible to have these many spices!” He gave a gasp and held up a jar. “Nutmeg! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“You’re welcome to use the kitchens anytime you’d like.” _Especially if you chose to live here with me_.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind the extra company?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle it _if_ your cooking is good”.

“Well, if there’s so much riding on this dish perhaps I should recruit some help.”

“Is that so?” Crowley winked. “If you’re in distress, I guess a dashing prince could come to your aid.” 

“Can this dashing prince use a whisk?” Crowley never had to cook for himself, but how hard could it really be? Very hard, it turned out. A large part of that was due to the constant distractions he was facing. Aziraphale hummed and swayed as he worked, as if he were listening to music only he could hear. Crowley was transfixed by how strong his hands looked as he was kneading the dough. They were always so soft when Aziraphale had touched him. He imagined Aziraphale grabbing him that roughly. Picking him up in his thick arm and supporting him while being dipped back into a deep kiss….

“Crowley?”

He was snapped out of his vivid daydream. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to try some of the batter before I put it in to bake.”

Crowley grabbed the mixing spoon and put it in his mouth. He noticed a blush on Aziraphale’s face as his tongue curled around the base of it. _Well, that’s a good sign_.

They met Tracy out in the garden after everything had finished cooking. The three of them sat at a small glass table drinking exceptional tea. 

“So this is the famous angel,” Tracy beamed. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“All good I hope?” 

“Of course, I’ve never seen Prince Anthony happier.” 

Embarrassed, Crowley quickly tried to change the subject. “This tart is divine Aziraphale. I think you’d actually rival the cook at the Archangels.”

Aziraphale coughed as if he had choked on something. “Is that so?” Crowley had been pressured into returning to the Archangel’s manor a few more times. Oddly, the chef had always been unavailable when he tried to give his compliments. “The food is one of the only reasons I go back there.” Aziraphale looked at him skeptically, as if he didn’t believe that was a real motive. Why else would Aizraphale think he returned? It certainly wasn’t to spend quality time with any of those wet blankets. 

Tracy continued as if Crowley had never interrupted. “And you’re the one behind this education plan?” 

“Hardly,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I may have planted some seeds, but Crowley’s the one who came up with the brilliant idea and the structure.”

“And he’s modest too! No wonder you like him,” Tracey winked, and Crowley went from pink to scarlet. 

“Ok, that’s enough Tracy. Aziraphale, you’ll have to excuse us. I forgot that Tracey and I have very important royalty meetings to attend alone- well, together but alone.” Aziraphale’s disappointment was only rivaled by his confusion. “But maybe you’d like to meet me at the third rendezvous point tonight? An hour after sunset?” 

Aziraphale smiled. “The duck pond sounds lovely. I’ll be sure to bring some bread.”

After Aziraphale left, Crowley pulled Tracy aside. “What the hell were you doing back there?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Anthony- or why you practically kicked that poor boy out the door.”

“I’m upset because he doesn’t know yet!”

“Doesn’t know what? Your feelings? Oh Anthony, the love is practically wafting off of you.” She rolled her eyes. “Off both of you.”

“Well, I haven’t done anything… or said anything yet.”

Tracey gasped. “But the masque is this week! My God Anthony, you haven’t asked him?” 

“What if he says no?” His voice sounded smaller than he had expected and Tracey’s eyes softened. 

“I think that’s highly unlikely. What are you waiting for?”

“I’ll show you when it arrives tomorrow.” He smiled nervously. “I think you’ll like it.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gabriel was in a tizzy. The masquerade was this week. He paced around the dining room. “We should have received a proposal or something by now. It seems that he’s quite set on marrying this Angel.” He turned to Michael. “It has to be you, right? What other family could you be referring to?” 

He stopped and looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve set up an appointment to meet with one of the king’s advisors tomorrow. Michael, I’m taking you along with me. We need to get this sorted out. You’ll need to wear your finest dress, the prince is set to be there.” He paused. “Where is Aziraphale? We need him to mend it before we go.”

“I’d be more than happy to help, Sir,” Deidre Young stepped in. 

Gabriel looked down at her. “Aziraphale might be a lot of things, but he’s the best seamstress in the household.”

Michael looked around. “It seems like he’s constantly disappearing nowadays. You’d think he didn’t owe our family everything in his pathetic life.”

Gabriel turned back to Deidre. “I want to be notified as soon as he returns.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was nighttime. Aziraphale and Crowley were lying on a cushy blanket at the bank of the pond. They were gazing at the starry night sky. Crowley was pointing out his favorite constellations. Aziraphale loved listening to him ramble. “The best has to be Corona Borealis.”

Aziraphale laughed. “The Northern Crown? My dear, isn’t that a bit on the nose?”

“S’not because of that,” Crowley said indignantly. “It's because it actually has a nice story that goes around it. Most of these constellations represent selfish, awful people, or glorify those chaotic Greek Gods.” He sighed. "Shame how humans can try to ruin everything beautiful.”

“Would you care to share this nice story with me?” 

Crowley turned towards him excitedly. “The Corona Borealis is about Ariadne the Princess of Crete. See, she falls in love with Theseus, the Prince of Athens who she thinks is this great guy. He’s handsome, strong, ready to kill a minotaur, and all that. Well, Ariadne knows that everyone who's gone into this labyrinth to kill the minotaur has died, so she gives him a magic ball of thread so he can find his way out again.”

“How helpful, that is a nice story.”

“Shhh, not done yet. So she saves this bloke's life and he says he loves her and whisks her away until he decides to abandon her on the island of Naxos while she’s sleeping.” 

“Good Lord, and this is your favorite?” 

“Patience, Aziraphale,” Crowley continued. “So she’s there crying because she’s just been ditched by this guy who she thought loved her, but she manages to attract the attention of Dionysus.”

“The God of Wine?”

“The one and only. He immediately realizes how beautiful she is and decides to woo her. He tells her not to be upset by some wanker when there’s a literal God that loves her. They get married and she’s so happy that she throws her crown up in the air from excitement. She threw it up so high it got caught in the stars. Whenever they look up they get to be reminded of their happiness and how good their lives are.”

“So they lived happily ever after, that is lovely. I can’t seem to find the constellation though.”

“Here.” Crowley scooted over and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale felt like he had been shocked by a live wire. Crowley pointed their intertwined hands upwards and moved their faces close together as he traced his fingers in the sky. “It looks like C.”

“Ah yes, not as bright as the others, but the mythology makes up for it." He could feel the flush running up his cheeks. 

Crowley moved towards the picnic basket he had brought. “Would you judge me if I opened another bottle of wine?”

“I would, but I think you’d like the verdict.” Aziraphale was hoping the wine would give him courage. _I need to tell him. He needs to know_.

Crowley laughed. Aziraphale could tell that the wine was starting to loosen his tongue. Crowley turned to look at him. “You know, this is where I knew you were special, after first meeting you here.” He had propped himself up on one elbow. “Aziraphale, there’s something I need to tell you.” He watched the rise and fall of Crowley’s chest as he spoke. “I think that this might be the happiest night of my life.”

The masquerade was this week. Crowley would be engaged, and he wouldn’t have these precious moments with him. “Is that so?” his body felt warm from the wine, and something else, something he was too scared to name. 

“It’s because, because you're my best friend and I, I…”

Before he could finish that sentence, Aziraphale leaned forward. He hesitated for a moment then used a shaky hand to cup his jaw. Crowley’s heavy breaths were tickling his fingers as he leaned forward to bridge the gap between them. Crowley gave out a surprised gasp when their lips touched.

Aziraphale pulled away at the noise and jolted upwards. “I’m sorry, I’ve overstepped, this obviously isn’t what you….”

“Oh, but it is. You have no idea,” he growled. 

*

Aziraphale was shaking so much he didn’t realize that Crowley was as well. Crowley tasted like wine and Aziraphale chased after the sweetness as he went in for another kiss. It started out as chaste, but became increasingly desperate. He tugged at Crowley’s bottom lip, eliciting a moaned _angelllll_ and Crowley’s warm, long fingered hands were on him, running over his body, thumbing his nipples, and lifting the hem of his shirt. 

Aziraphale stopped. “ I’ve never, I’ve never…” he felt embarrassed. He’d done this to himself, but never with another person. 

“Please,” Crowley’s voice was deep with want. “Let me take care of you,” and how could he say no to that? Aziraphale let him remove it. He had never let anyone see him like this, so exposed. Sure, he had swam in front of Crowley shirtless, but this was different. This was vulnerable, this was losing control. Everything felt tentative until he looked into Crowley’s eyes, they were filled with nothing but trust and undisguised affection. 

He made up his mind, rolled Crowley over and began to straddle him. He could feel the heat of him through his trousers and moaned as he ground against him. He could feel that Crowley was also hard, _oh dear God, he wants this, he wants me_. Aziraphale’s zipper wined noisily as Crowley pulled it down. “Is this ok? Can I keep going?” 

Aziraphale knew he should feel conflicted, but how could he stop? The fire building in his stomach was all consuming, running through every nerve in his body. This could be his only chance. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Yes, more than anything.” 

—

Crowley moved to his knees ready to worship the man he loved; the king of his heart. He took his time, moving over the creamy skin of Aziraphale’s thick thighs. He wanted Aziraphale to feel precious, for him to know that every moment was being savored. Crowley ran his tongue over the inside of his hip and nipped at the skin. Aziraphale shivered let out a noise that sounded like a sob. Crowley ran his tongue along the length of him and then took him into his mouth. As if on instinct, Aziraphale grabbed his hair with force. It was so different than all of the gentle caresses he had been given before and Crowley loved it. 

Aziraphale tasted even better than he had imagined. He knew that the universe should feel big and important while staring at a sky full of stars, but it paled in comparison to the man that was staring down at him, searching his face. Aziraphale moaned and Crowley quickened his pace, eager to please. His whole body was trembling. _Yes, please want this_. He looked back at the stars and made the same wish on each one. He got to be Aziraphale’s first, and he desperately wanted to be his last. Aziraphale’s thrusts into his mouth became erratic. “I’m g..going t..to”. Crowley gave one last suck and swallowed the salt and heat that flooded his mouth. Aziraphale was gasping for air like a drowning man. 

They laid in silence for a few moments, until Aziraphale began moving again. “Now dear, let me take care of you.” Aziraphale was undoing Crowley's trousers and running a smooth, hot palm up his flat abdomen and sharp hip bones. His blue eyes stared deeply into his, “You deserve to have someone look after your needs. Never forget that you are worthy of that,” and if Crowley wasn’t hard before, he was positively aching with that comment. _Just keep fucking breathing_. Aziraphale spit in his hand and began to stroke Crowley’s cock. He thrusted helplessly up into Aziraphale’s grasp. "Oh my dear, you are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” Crowley knew his body was too jagged and lanky to be considered beautiful, but he felt irresistible under Aziraphale's hungry gaze. He closed his eyes, trying to ingrain this moment in his mind forever. When Crowley came, he was calling Aziraphale’s name. Aziraphale’s lips brushed against his temple as he finished in his hand.

They held each other giving sloppy kisses that were salty and wet and desperate. Their chests were heaving and Crowley's body felt warm despite the chill air. Tears were running down Aziraphale’s face. “Why did you have to be so perfect?” he whispered.

Crowley pushed back his sweat-drenched hair so he could see him properly. “There’s an old gazebo not far from here. Meet me there tomorrow afternoon?”

Aziraphae’s voice was soft as he leaned close to the shell of Crowley’s ear, leaving kisses up his neck along the way. “I’ll try.”

Crowley stared at the most beautiful man he had ever seen, feeling nothing but unbridled love. “Then I’ll wait all day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed I removed the “light angst” tag. Get ready for some heavy angst next chapter. They’ll get their happy ending, but it’s going to be a rough ride. I mentioned that this is inspired by Ever After, so those of you that have watched the movie know what’s coming.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you're thinking in the comments :) Thanks for reading!


	7. Who We Are and What We Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and for your kudos and comments!  
> We are now entering the Angst Zone™  
> Warning: there will be mentions of abuse (physical and emotional) in this chapter.

As morning dawned, Crowley searched the castle to find Tracey. She gave a surprised smile when she saw him. “Why Anthony, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you awake this early.”

“There’s something I need to show you.” Crowley reached into his pocket and opened a small wooden box. Inside was a magnificently crafted golden ring. Angels wings had been pressed into the center. Next to it was a silver band that resembled the royal crest, a snake coiled around itself. Even with all their differences, they were somehow perfect complements.The mix of warm and cold, hard and soft, made the rings match perfectly. “I had a jeweler start on them the day I met Aziraphale at the Flaming Tavern.”

“Oh dear, they’re gorgeous,” Tracey said while reaching to touch them. The diamond between the wings and ruby in the snake’s eye glittered in her palm . 

“Better be, I’ve had them remade three times.” Crowley had agonized over them for weeks. They needed to be perfect before he gave them to Aziraphale. 

“Is this what you were waiting for then?” 

“One of the things.” Having the rings was obviously important, but even more important was the assurity that Aziraphale would yes, that he wanted Crowley the same way Crowley wanted him. Remembering the night before made him feel like he could fly. He touched the slight bruise on his collarbone made by one of Aziraphale’s more enthusiastic kisses. The purple bloom was a physical reminder that he had not been dreaming, a reminder that he had everything he could possibly want. Crowley went to prepare for the day, feeling completely and utterly whole for the first time. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

Aziraphale woke with a headache. He supposed it was a side effect of drinking too much wine the evening before. He never held his alcohol as well as Crowley did. When he opened his eyes he realized that all three Archangels were standing in his room looking down at him.

“Where were you last night?” Gabriel questioned, his tone sharp.

Aziraphale hesitated. “I went out to pick flowers and... I got lost.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Aziraphale.”

“Why is it so important for you to know?”

“For your information, we,” Gabriel gestured to himself and Michael, “have a meeting with the king’s main advisor today to sort out this marriage business. We needed Michael’s dress mended immediately.”

Aziraphale let out a derisive scoff.

“Something funny?”

Aziraphale felt an angry heat rising in his chest. “Do you really think she deserves him?”

“Excuse me?” Gabriel sounded shocked.

“You’ve hunted the prince as if it were a sport! You’ve manipulated him and you’ve been lying to him about your intentions. Michael doesn’t even care for him! Don’t you think he deserves more than that?”

“He’s a slut that would seduce anything with legs. He’s lucky that someone as pure as Michael would even consider him.”

Angry tears were falling from Aziraphale’s eyes. “How dare you! How dare you speak of him like that! You pretend to be so righteous, but you always manage to be awful to anyone if it serves to benefit you!”

“How dare I?” Gabriel let out a cold laugh. “You seem to have forgotten your place here. I’m glad your mother isn’t alive to see how you turned out- an ungrateful brat who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

Sandalphon spoke up for the first time, “Wouldn’t be surprised if your parents died just so they could get away from you.”

Aziraphale decided to ignore the pounding in his head. He stood up, walked towards his step brother, and punched him in the face. Breaking Sandalphon’s nose was a fleeting victory. In no time, the Archangels had him pinned to the ground. Gabriel’s knee pressed between Aziraphale’s shoulder blades, sending jolts of pain down his spine.

He leaned close to Aziraphale’s ear. “I didn’t have to keep you here. You earn your stay by being useful. Do you think anyone would even care if I broke your arm?” He tugged on the joint. “I took pity on you after your mother died, and these are the thanks I get? Assaulting my son and insulting me and my daughter?”

Sandalphon, who had blood dripping down his face, switched places with his father. 

“I think you need to be put back in your place. Legally, everything in this manor belongs to me.” He grabbed one of the beautiful, hardback books Crowley had given him from the monastery and walked towards the lit fireplace. Aziraphale watched in horror as he threw it into the flames.

“No!” Aziraphale cried. He tried to break free from Sandalphon’s grip, but his back was screaming. He watched helplessly as Gabriel grabbed his late father's blue bow tie and did the same. “Please stop, I’m sorry!” Gabriel smirked as he grabbed another book off the shelf, this one belonging to his mother. It was one of the last books she had ever read to him. “Gabriel, don’t please! I’m so sorry I’ve been ungrateful. I’ll never disobey again!”

“Oh, I’m sure of that.” He stopped for a moment and began to turn, but placed the book in the fire anyways. The smoke billowed away from it as the pages curled into ash. “Never forget who you are, who you really are.”

Gabriel turned to Michael. “Go get the rod. I want to make sure he remembers this.” Aziraphale hadn’t experienced a lashing since he was a child, when he was first learning his new position in the household. They removed his shirt and then the metal was ripping at the soft flesh of his back. Aziraphale was gasping for air between ragged sobs, but he wasn’t crying from the pain. He huddled up on the ground. No, he couldn’t forget anymore. He had nothing that was actually his. He was completely inconsequential.

Gabriel leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You are no one. Say it.”

“I am no one.”

“I am not worthy to clean this household, but I will work for forgiveness.”

Aziraphale repeated with labored breaths. “I am not worthy to clean this household, but I will work for forgiveness.” 

Gabriel cast the rod aside, and it made a loud clunk on the floor. “Now that we’ve sorted that out, go mend Michael’s dress. She’ll be needing it soon.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

After Aziraphale had finished stitching Michael’s gown, she and Gabriel left for the castle.

They sat down with an older redheaded woman in the main dining room. “I’m sorry the prince isn’t here. He seems to have run off with his angel again. Such a lovely man.”

“Man?” Gabriel said confusingly. 

“Oh yes, he’s a gorgeous, clever thing too. It’s no surprise the prince is quite taken.”

Gabriel was fighting to control the tone and pace of his voice. “So Angel is a nickname, not an actual name.”

“Yes of course it is, his real name is….”

_______________________________________________________________________________

Crowley was waiting under the gazebo, his heart beating erratically. It creaked as he leaned against the side of it, which was beautifully covered in twisting green vines. He had always loved this place as a child, for some reason it had always seemed so romantic to him. His hands kept instinctively touching the rings in his pocket. How had he ever considered proposing to anyone else? All that wasted time putting up walls, and they’d all crumbled so easily under Aziraphale’s touch. He never wanted to rebuild them again. He breathed deeply, letting the fresh forest air fill his lungs. After this he would take Aziraphale somewhere proper to celebrate. Maybe if he was lucky he would get a repeat performance of last night, he smiled to himself at the memory. 

As Aziraphale approached, Crowley noticed he wasn’t wearing his bow tie. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he’d recently been crying. “Angel?” Crowley walked up to him quickly, embracing him in his slender arms. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Aziraphale whimpered when Crowley’s hands touched his back and he moved away. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

Aziraphale didn’t answer, he looked at Crowley and his voice was thick with emotion. “I want you to know that last night was the happiest night of my life too.”

“Well, if you can believe it, I’d like to try and top it.” His voice was shaking with nerves and excitement as he reached into his jacket. 

“Crowley, this needs to end.”

Crowley felt a shard of ice strike his heart. “What needs to end?”

“Us, this fraternizing we’ve been doing.”

“Fraternizing?” This couldn’t be happening, not after last night. He pushed at the bruise on his collarbone and it ached.

“Well, whatever you wish to call it.”

“Love.”

“What?” Aziraphale sounded breathless. 

“I’d call it love because I love you, Aziraphale.”

“Crowley you can’t love me. You don’t even know me.”

“I do know you, I know you better than I know anyone!”

Aziraphale let out a short, skeptical laugh.

Crowley balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. “I know that you’re the most passionate person I’ve ever met. I know that you genuinely laugh at all my awful jokes. I know the way you smell; like the earth and spices and your books. I know you have a special smile that you only make when you’re eating. I know that you enjoy reading romance novels just as much as philosophy and science books, even if you’ll never admit it. I know that you like to tease Anathema and Adam but that you would literally die for either of them. I know that you sometimes let me win when we play games because you’re kind and want to make sure I’m having fun,” he paused to catch his breath. “I know that your hands can be strong and tender. I know how soft your hair is and how gentle your lips are. I know that I could spend 6,000 years with you and never tire of your company. I know the way you light up when you see me and I know that you feel the same way about me that I do about you.” Crowley was trying to keep his composure but his voice had become tight and strangled. “So don’t try and tell me that I don’t know you, Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale shook his head as if he was unable to speak, tears were running down his cheeks. 

Crowley fisted the fabric of his cream shirt in desperation, pulling him close. “Last night you felt it! My soul has been singing for yours, and you whispered back. We’ve been singing the same song ssssince we met! Maybe even before then!” Great. His lisp was resurfacing, like he was a scared fucking child again.

Aziraphale was crying. “Surely, you must know that my deepest wish is for you to find happiness.” 

“But I have! I’ve found it with you! If you mean that, ssstay with me, we can through thisss!” Crowley realized he was yelling and his throat hurt at the force with which he was speaking. Aziraphale kept shaking his head and Crowley could feel himself becoming exasperated. “So what, now that I’ve sucked you off you can cast me aside? Last night meant nothing to you?”

“You know it’s not like that! Last night was beautiful.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

Aziraphale was shaking. “I’m doing this because we can’t change how things are. We’re on different sides.”

“What does that even mean, Aziraphale!?”

Aziraphale threw his arms up in frustration. “It means that you’re a prince!”

“ _That’s_ what this is all about!? My title means nothing to me, and anyways it’s really not that strange for royalty to be with courtiers. It happens all the time! My grandmother was a baroness, for Satan’s sake. I don’t want to be with some sodding prince or princess, Aziraphale I want to be with you!”

Aziraphale let out a choked sob. “I have to leave.”

“Why?” Crowley was cupping his face, searching his eyes. Pleading for understanding. 

Aziraphale turned to walk away, but Crowley stepped in front of him. “Don’t you dare leave. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me too.” The forest was silent for a moment.

“Is that an order, your Majesty?” Aziraphale’s voice held so much resentment that it caused Crowley to crumple.

“You know I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s eyes had gone steely and cold. He pulled himself up to his fullest height, wincing as he did so. “Then let me go.”

Crowley moved aside and watched his angel walk away, dragging his wretched heart with him. He fell to his knees under the gazebo and wept. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

As Crowley walked into the castle he felt dissociated from everything around him. How had the best day of his life immediately been followed by the worst? He pressed forcefully on his bruise again, hoping the pain would ground him. He leaned against a stone wall and slid down the side of it, pressing his head between his knees. _Keep fucking breathing._

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. “So I’m guessing you already know.”

“Know what?” Crowley’s voice was poisonous. “That I’m a fool? That I’m an idiot for thinking someone could love me? That a literal angel would want to be with me?” He took the box from his pocket and threw it in frustration. It cracked open and the rings spilled out on the floor, sliding apart from each other. “How did I let this happen again? How did I not learn this lesson before?”

Tracey stared at him confusedly. “Love, it’s not your fault that he’s already engaged.”

Crowley felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured on him. “What?”

“It’s to someone from the eastern kingdom, I guess it’s been arranged since he was a child. I only found out today when talking to a viscount. I wish I could have warned you. Aziraphale is set to travel there tonight.”

“Then this was all his shite way of saying goodbye?” That’s why he didn’t want to reveal his family? To prevent this secret from coming out? But none of that seemed to make sense. “He should have told me that before, before….,” Crowley stammered. 

Tracey sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. “We should talk to your father, dear. It might be best to push this engagement business back. I’m sure he would understand with the circumstances being-”

“No.” Crowley felt an icy knot in his stomach. “I’ve made my decision.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

Aziraphale entered the manor again. His heart was in his shoes. He kept remembering Crowley’s words _I’d call it love because I love you, Aziraphale._ The image of Crowley’s wounded expression was branded into his eyes. Aziraphale had caused him so much pain. Aziraphale kept telling himself- he deserves better than me- as tears trickled down his cheeks again. He dragged his feet heavily along the stone floor, eyes downcast. Suddenly, he was face to face with an enraged Gabriel. 

“You idiot, how dare you do this! You should be hanged!” 

“What are you talking about?”

“You damn well know what I’m talking about, _Angel_.”

“Fine, tell them everything! I don’t care if they hang me. I’ll help them tie the noose!”

“Please, like the prince would ever consider Michael if he knew she was associated with you. A dirty servant that deceived royalty into thinking he's more. I can’t believe how selfish you’ve been, that you would do this to your step sister. It’s as if you don’t care about this family at all.”

“What family!” Aziraphale shrieked. “The people that beat me and hate me? Gabriel you are the only father I've ever known and you treat me like a pariah! Was there a time that you ever considered me a son? A time that you loved me at all?”

Gabriel stared at him seriously. “How could anyone love a thorn in their side?” He moved closer towards Aziraphale. “If you died tomorrow I would bury you in an unmarked peasant grave because you are and always have been trash.”

Aziraphale nodded his head and valiantly tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. “That’s probably true, and I’m sure the prince has a similar opinion of me now. You have nothing to worry about with him. It’s over. I’m no longer your competition.”

“I wish that were true, Aziraphale. I can’t risk you ruining this.” Gabriel and Sandalphon grabbed both of his arms and shoved him through a heavy metal door. Aziraphale felt his knees scrape against the cold floor. The door quickly slammed shut behind him and was locked. “You’ll stay here for now. We’ll figure out what to do with you when this has been sorted out. You better pray your boyfriend chooses Michael, or I’ll hold you responsible for this meddling.”

Gabriel pocketed the key and turned to the other servants that had watched the whole display in horror. “If you open this door, you’ll pay the price with your life.”

Aziraphale stayed doubled over on his burning knees despite the pain. He had no more tears left to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry


	8. Masquerade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to be a longer chapter, but I’ve pushed back some of the content to chapter 9. I might add a 10th based on how I decide to wrap things up.

All of the Archangel servants loved Aziraphale, but knew better than to cross Gabriel. Well, all except for one very bright, curious, mischievous child.

“Aziraphale,” Adam whispered through the barred window on the cellar door. He had stacked a pile of books under his feet so he was tall enough to see through it. He was sure Aziraphale would forgive him later, it was for a good cause. “Pssst, Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale was laying on the dusty floor. He answered without looking over. “Yes, child?”

“You don’t look too good.”

Aziraphale gave a snort of laughter. “I appreciate your honesty.”

Adam started to fidget loudly with the lock. Aziraphale turned. “Don’t, Adam. They’ll hurt you if they see you.”

“Those pricks are already on their way to the dance,” Adam said as he continued his attempt at lock picking. 

“Adam, that’s not a very nice word,” Aziraphale admonished, but he was too worn to put any bite into his tone.

“Well, they aren’t very nice people,” he replied unfazed. “You have to get up, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale sighed. “And why is that?” 

“Cause the prince didn’t even know who I was, but he always gave me some of his biscuits when he came over to visit the Archangels. Do you think that one of Gabriel’s kids is good enough for someone that shares his biscuits with strangers?”

“To be honest, I don’t think anyone is good enough for Prince Anthony.”

“No one at all? Because he shares his biscuits?”

“No, it’s because he’s the most wonderful man in the world! Because he let’s me decorate his hair with flowers and because he listens to me and values my ideas. It’s because he wants to make me happy and indulges my whims. Because he’s clever and funny and affectionate and-”

“Sounds like you love him,” Adam cut in. 

Aziraphale paused. “I do. I love him more than I love anything.” 

“Ok, let’s get you to the dance then,” Adam said in the matter of fact way only children could say impossible things. 

Aziraphale gave a sad laugh. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

“I think he will, unless he’s not actually as nice and charming as you say he is.”

“Regardless, I’m a bit tied up at the moment.” Aziraphale moved towards the door and pulled on the handle. It didn’t budge at all. 

“So you’re saying if I got you out then you would go to the ball?”

“I never said…” Before Aziraphale could finish, Adam had already run off. He needed to go find the smartest person he knew. 

___________________________________

Newt had a limited range of facial expressions. Anathema realized this fairly soon after they met. They spanned anywhere from confused to love sick to unbelievably anxious. As Newt began riding towards Anathema she noticed a new expression: anger. “What’s up with you?” she questioned as he hopped off his horse, kicking dust into the air.

“As if you don’t already know.”

She was taken aback by his tone and placed a hand on her hip. “No need to throw around an attitude. Talk to me or leave.”

“You knew the prince had feelings for him. You’d have to be blind not to see it! Why didn’t you warn him? Or at least warn me so I could warn him?”

Anathema could feel concern creeping into her stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“Aziraphale’s secret. You two are bosom friends, so don’t pretend you didn’t know. The prince has been crying in his bedchamber since he came home yesterday. I’ve never seen him so sick about something. It’s 10x worse than the Prince James debacle.”

Her first thought was _who says bosom friends_ but it was quickly followed by, _Shit, they found out he’s a servant._ “If the prince gets so worked up about something as trivial as that then he doesn’t deserve to be with Aziraphale,” she spat. 

Newt’s face went to a familiar confused expression. “Prince Anthony was going to propose to him! I wouldn’t say Aziraphale’s predicament is trivial.” 

Crowley didn’t want his title to define him, but he was fine judging Aziraphale for his status? She drew herself up taller. “If Crowley actually loved Aziraphale for who he is, his social standing shouldn’t matter! I mean, I’m a Baroness and you’re a guard and I couldn’t care less!”

“Social standing?” Newt sounded exasperated. “That’s an interesting way of saying he’s engaged.”

Now it was Anathema’s turn to look confused. “Engaged? What are you talking about?”

“To someone from the East? That Aziraphale already left for his current fiance?”

“Aziraphale engaged?” she laughed. “That’s ridiculous. He’s never even had a proper boyfriend, not until recently at least. Where did you hear that rubbish?”

Newt shrugged. “Madame Tracey broke the news to him yesterday. She said a viscount told her.”

Anathema’s blood ran cold. _Shit_. “Tell me it wasn’t the Viscount Archangel.” 

Newt raised an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

_Shit shit shit shit fuck they know_ . “We have to help him! We have to find Aziraphale now!”

Newt scrunched up his nose. “After everything he’s put Anthony through?”

“Do you trust me, you dolt?”

“Of course, more than anyone.” His expression had now changed to terribly lovesick. 

“Then listen to what I have to say.” Newt listened with rapt attention while Anthema spoke, sometimes throwing in some gasps as she went. “I didn’t realize he tried to break things off,” Anathema said as she finished her story. “ I haven't seen him for the last two days. He’s in love with Crowley, but he’s afraid of rejection. That’s pretty much all he’s received from the people who were supposed to love him for the last decade.” To Anathema’s surprise, Newt was tearing up. 

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed. “That was just so sad.” As if by a miracle, Adam Young appeared moments later. 

“Miss Anathema! I need you to come with me.” 

_______________________________________

The three of them stared dumbly at the door while Aziraphale sat inside. 

“Maybe we could burn it down…,” Newt started to suggest.

“Oh dear Lord!” Aziraphale squawked. 

“Wait,” Anathema held up a finger. “I have an idea.” She proceeded to look over the rusty hinges of the door and pulled out the bolts. The door left its frame in one piece. Newt and Adam helped her set it heavily on the ground. _Smartest person I know_ thought Adam.

“Thank you, thank you all so much,” Aziraphale said while embracing them in a tight hug, ignoring the sting he felt in his back. 

Newt pulled away to look at him. “Prince Anthony is miserable. He thinks you’ve gone off to another kingdom forever. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth?”

“I think he deserves everything,” Aziraphale looked down at his dirty, blood stained clothes. “But I can’t see him like this.”

Anathema turned to the two boys standing next to her. “Leave that to us.” 

_______________________________________

Crowley sat in an extravagantly decorated hall. The walls were covered with black and red drapery, matching the silken table runners on every surface. The tables were lit with the glow of golden candelabras, which caused the crystal glasses to refract like diamonds. Tracey really did have a fine eye for color.

The whole area was teeming with courtiers dressed in fanciful costumes. All of the ladies carried feathered fans and wore jewels in an attempt to attract the attention of eligible men. 

Some people wore painted porcelain masks, while others decided to forgo the tradition, opting for vibrate costumes made of tule and cashmere instead. Exotic peacock feathers and animal prints were everywhere. Crowley himself had decided to wear an all black outfit with matching devil horns. It felt fitting. 

Stringed instruments were playing and Crowley observed the glare and glitter costumes as people danced. Crowley hated dancing, but that was par for the course right now. He hated everything at the moment. He was falling apart at the seams and felt that almost any human interaction would cause him to tear. He stayed slumped at his throne, trying to look unapproachable. How had he not realized the happiest summer of his life was dribbling through his fingers? He thought Aziraphale was happy. He should have asked him to stay sooner, maybe then he could have changed his mind. 

Tracey was busy orchestrating everything, and where the hell was Newt? Crowley might actually enjoy his company if it could distract from the gaping emptiness and regret he felt in his stomach. Memories of Aziraphale’s clever mouth and hands filled his mind. He kept replaying their last interaction _Is that an order, your Majesty?_ He supposed he must be a sucker self torture. Crowley gave a resigned sigh and took a sip of wine from his goblet. The food looked good, but he had no appetite. He nearly started crying at a spiced pear dish he was offered. His father would be making the announcement soon. After that he’d just have to deal with eternity. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley could see a pair of angel wings move through the crowd. His heart clenched. He supposed he’d never be able to set foot in a church again, but honestly that wasn’t a huge loss. He let his gaze wander towards the wings and saw the wearer had soft, white-blonde curls. Crowley froze, trying and failing not to hope. The winged being turned around. Aziraphale’s nervous smile shone like sunlight through the crowd when he saw Crowley. A crown baby's breath sat on his head like a halo. Instead of a porcelain mask, glitter had been pressed on his cherubic cheeks. He looked heavenly, divine even. _He didn’t leave. He’s still here._ Crowley bolted towards him, pride be damned, he was ready to worship his angel. The most beautiful man in the world had potentially re-entered his life, this could be a second chance.

“You’re here,” he said stupidly when he reached Aziraphale. He was out of breath from running. 

“Yes I am. Crowley, there is something I need to tell you.” Aziraphale’s voice sounded like music. Had it always been so mellifluous? 

“Is it true? Are you engaged to someone from the East?”

“No I am not. I’ve actually never been engaged before.”

The emptiness in Crowley’s stomach was replaced by something more intense, a fluttering sensation of hope and yearning. “You’re here to see me because you love me?” It was a question more than a statement. All of the air had left Crowley’s lungs.

“Darling, I knew I was hopeless for you the first time you called me angel.'' Crowley tucked an errant curl behind his angel’s ear and within a moment Crowley had engulfed him in his arms, burying his nose in Aziraphale’s feathery hair. He inhaled the smell of the earth and spices and books. It was heavenly.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and began running. “I have to stop my father from announcing what would have been the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Wait, there’s something I need to tell you!”

“Whatever it is my answer is yes.” Crowley was pure adrenaline. _A second chance. I’m getting a second chance._

He felt Aziraphale’s hand jerk back. When Crowley turned around he saw that Viscount Archangel had grabbed Aziraphale by the wings and pulled him to the ground. Gabriel proceed to rip them off with a litany of “Who let you in here?" and "What do you think you are doing?”

Crowley was aghast. “Hey you pratt, get off of him! You have no right to speak to him like that!”

“Actually I have every right to speak to him like that.” Gabriel pointed down at Aziraphale. “This man is a servant in my household.”

Crowley let out a cold laugh. “He’s not even from this village, you loon! Tell him, Angel.”

Aziraphale stared up at him with large, watery eyes. He was on his knees in supplication. He said nothing.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley repeated hesitantly. 

“I apologize, your Majesty,” Gabriel started. “This man is a liar and a cheat. He’s been manipulating you in hopes of monetary gain. I’ve tried to stop him, but he is inherently deceitful.”

Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “Are you this man’s servant?” His pulse was quickening. Aziraphale would never lie to him, would he?

Aziraphale began to nod. “I am,” he breathed. 

So, he had been dishonest this whole time. What else could Azirapahle have lied about? Crowley had trusted him, told him things he’d never said to anyone before. Was any of it real? The heat of betrayal and confusion burned in his chest. 

Aziraphale began to stand. “But I can explain, Crowley!” The crowd gasped at once, scandalized by a servant’s casual use of the prince’s name. 

Crowley looked down at the man he had borne his soul to. The same man who walked away when he told him that he loved him, the man who had lied to him. A wave of distrust clouded his mind. “You have no right to address me so informally, sir. I am the crowned prince of the North, and I suppose you are just like everyone else.”

Azirapahle let out a small sob as his face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, your highness,” he whispered shakily through a stream of tears. With everyone’s eyes on him, he began to run. His halo of flowers fell as he did so, and his wings were left mangled on the ground. 

King Lucian, having witnessed everything, stood up. “The masque is canceled. Everyone go home. There’s been enough excitement tonight. There will be no announcement this evening.” Crowley gave a curt nod to his father and walked away. He needed to be alone, his seams had torn. 

—-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we will be reentering the Soft Zone™. I love reading comments, so please feel free to let me know what you think or what you’re hoping to see next chapter! As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> Update: After I'm finished with this fic, I plan on posting a high school AU. I'm not sure if I want to do ineffable husbands or ineffable wives and I would love to get your input! https://forms.gle/krYHJQqAWA8zkGFK7
> 
> Thanks!


	9. Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all ready for this! Writing this has been such an amazing experience. I never would have finished it without your support and kind words. I hope you enjoy this final chapter!

Crowley hadn’t left his bedchamber in two days. He was only roused by a harsh rapping at his door. Irritated, he got out of bed. “I already told you father, I’m not ready to talk abou-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Anathema? How did you get in here?” Of course, he already knew the answer before she could respond. “I’m surprised it took you two whole days to wear Newt down.”

Her eyes remained fiery. “I repeat, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I don’t deserve to be talked to like that,” he snapped. He was a victim after all, she couldn’t possibly place the blame on him for what had happened. 

“Oh,” she mocked. “Excuse me for the outburst, your most high majesty. I forgot that you’ve decided you care about your title now.” She bowed so deep her nose almost touched the floor. 

“It’s not that,” Crowley snarled. “What I care about being lied to and taken advantage of.” 

“Taken advantage of?” Anathema parroted is disbelief. 

“Yes!” Crowley screamed. “He lied! He lied the whole time about who he was! I don’t even know him!”

“Like hell you don’t. I know you're scared, and this would be an easy cop out, but do you honestly think it’s possible for Aziraphale to be devious? That he could muster malicious intent for anyone?”

“He should have told me.” Crowley pouted. 

“Maybe he should have, but think about this- you don’t want your birthright to define you and Aziraphale gave you that courtesy, unlike anyone else you’ve ever met. Maybe Aziraphale was hoping you’d give him the same chance in return. If you had come across him while he was serving plates are the Archangels, would you have ever struck up a conversation with him? Do you think you’d have had any of your precious dates this summer?” 

He paused, he probably wouldn’t have. “They weren’t technically dates.” His cheeks were flaming. “It wouldn't be because I’m a snob, it’s just something that’s not done. I mean, you’re a baroness. Did you know he was a servant before you became friends with him?” 

Anathema glared at him for the implication. “I knew him before his mother died. It was awful when she passed. It almost destroyed him, then that so-called family kicked the shit out of him, _they broke him_. He didn’t get his light back until he met you, and then you decided to kick the shit out of him again, in front of the whole bloody kingdom!” Crowley could tell Anathema was becoming more upset with every sentence she spoke. Her voice had grown louder and her chest was heaving. “Aziraphale tries not to love anyone because he’s been hurt by, or lost, almost all the people he’s ever cared about. I can’t believe that you have the audacity to claim that he used you, or was manipulating you. What exactly did he try to get from you, Crowley? Did he ever ask you for _anything_? You actively sought his company for most of your little courtship!” Anthema stepped closer to him. “Crowley, look me in the eyes.” He could see his ashamed reflection in her large round spectacles. “I know that he hurt you when he tried to break things off. I know it’s easy to try and shut him out to avoid being hurt again, but do you really think any of it was fake? That he was ever being disingenuous? Do you regret any moment you ever spent with him?”

“No.” Crowley was trembling with the gravity of the mistake he’d made and guilt washed over him. How had he not given Aziraphale a chance to explain himself? He had just been so hurt and confused at the time; it had been difficult to think straight.

“Then what the fuck are you going to do, Crowley?”

“I need to go to the Archangel Manor to see him.”

Anathema’s eyebrows shot above her glasses. “Do you really think the Archangel’s would let him return home after everything that happened?”

Crowley could feel bile rising in his throat. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

“He’s been arrested.”

“Arrested! I know it’s illegal to lie to me, but I didn’t press charges. I’d never have him arrested.” 

“How chivalrous of you,” Anathema sneered. “Gabriel accused him of stealing from the household.” 

Ok, Crowley could fix this. “We’ll just show up at the trial. I’ll step in and we can take care of it there.”

“Wow, you really don’t get it, do you?” Anathema was shaking her head. "He doesn’t get a trial. It’s a servant’s word against a viscount’s. Aziraphale has already been sent to a jail. He was taken away by one of those awful guards yesterday. He’s going to be shipped off to some work camp in the next few days, that’s why I had to see you now.”

Crowley felt his stomach curdle. He pictured his angel’s beautiful, strong hands that had touched him so affectionately bound in shackles. _Oh someone, what had he done_. Aziraphale’s only crime was being loved and showing Crowley kindness and tenderness he had never known before. Crowley looked up at the ceiling, _please keep him safe until I can get there_. 

_____________________________________

Aziraphale had known the risks when he decided to attend the masquerade ball. Honestly, what did he expect to happen? Did he really think Crowley would just welcome him with open arms after everything was out in the open? Aziraphale regretted how his secret had been revealed, but he did not regret having Crowley know the truth. Slinking away as he originally intended had been cowardly, and he knew that Crowley deserved better than that.

Aziraphale sat in what was essentially an oversized cage. What an unexpected summer this had been. Part of him felt that he deserved this after breaking the heart of the most wonderful man in the world, but another part recognized the injustice of having an innocent man thrown in jail. He leaned back against the cold wall. At least he would never have to worry about seeing Crowley again. Hopefully, he would be able to move on with his life and learn to trust someone that was worthy of his love. 

The conditions in the prison were deplorable. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the scant food he received or the abusive guards that patrolled the corridors. They were constantly egging on prisoners to fight each other, like it was some great source of entertainment. He felt a deep sense of tiredness in his bones as he turned towards a loud source of scuffling. Another fight had broken out. The guard, a dreadful man called Hauster, was laughing as he watched the two men go at it. Eventually, the smaller man was thrown across the floor, hitting a wall with a loud crunching noise. Hastur held up the victorious inmate's hand. “Who’s next? Who wants to take on Ligur?”

His beady eyes scanned the room until they landed on Aziraphale’s cell. “Didn’t you get sent here for stealing a sword?”

He sighed. “That was the claim made against me, yes.” 

Hastur opened the door to his cage and pulled him out by his shirt. “Care to show off any of your skills then? Ligur here is undefeated and things are starting to get boring.”

“I’d like to go back into my room, please.” 

“Aw, the polite young man enjoys being locked up,” Hastur smirked. “There’s gotta be something you’ll fight for.” He paused. “What if we gave you a chance to go free?”

Aziraphale’s ears perked up. “And why would you do that?”

“We haven’t had a decent show here in ages. Should be plenty of motivation for the pair of you. Victor gets his freedom.” He waggled a key in front of them. Every inmate's ankles had long shackles binding them, but their wrists were free, giving a full range of movement. Before he could respond, Hastur’s sword was placed in his hands and Ligur was advancing on him with his own blade. 

Reflexively, Aziraphale leapt backwards and was able to parry. How was this actually happening? A few months ago he was a servant tending a vegetable garden, now he was an innocent man fighting for his freedom in a prison? All because he had fallen in love? Ridiculous. He readjusted his grip on the hilt. It had been quite some time since he’d practiced, but he really did have something to fight for. He pictured himself leaving this place and starting somewhere different. Maybe he could get a small cottage with a large yard and start a new collection of books. Nothing in life would feel complete without Crowley, but it was better than being locked up and working God knows where.

While lost in thought, Ligur swiped at him again, cutting his shirt. He could hear the rasp of the material ripping. _Oh dear, he intends to kill me_. Adrenaline flowed through Aziraphale as he realized he was now fighting for his life too. 

Aziraphale’s blade hissed as he sliced through the air. The two dipped and weaved past each other with furious slashes. The clink of metal was the only thing that could be heard over the raucous screams of the other inmates. Aziraphale managed to make contact with Ligur’s cheek, forcing the man to fall backwards. Aziraphale stood above him and placed a foot on his chest. He pointed his sword down at Ligur. “Say it!”

“I yield,” he growled.

Aziraphale turned back to Hastur expectantly, he was scowling. “What the hell do you want?”

“What I’m owed, that key.”

Hastur gave a dry laugh. “You really thought it’d give it to you?”

While Aziraphale generally tried to keep a level head, anger flamed inside him. This week had taken too much out of him already. He pointed the sword at the guard and gritted his teeth. “I said that I am owed that key.”

Hastur thought Aziraphale was joking, until he saw the look in his eyes. “You did promise,” whispered Ligur. Reluctantly, Hastur undid the lock that chained Aziraphale’s ankles and he quickly left the building, sword in hand. 

_____________________________________

A weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, but he needed to hurry. What if someone came after him? At least he was free for now. Free to go… somewhere. He pondered his options. He knew that he couldn’t return to the manor, and the thought of never seeing Anathema or Adam again made him want to wretch. He was snapped out of his misery by the loud patter of hoof beats. His heart stopped as he turned. Crowley. He was frowning, which made sharp angles of his beautiful face even more prominent. 

Aziraphale tried to pat down his unruly curls and wipe off the dirt that was surely covering his face. He looked quite different from the last time Crowley had seen him. Crowley approached him hesitantly. “What are you doing here?” Aziraphale breathed.

“I, uh, I’m here to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” Aziraphale questioned. “A commoner?”

“No, well, obviously you don’t need rescuing- you’ve always been sufficient like that.” Crowley laughed nervously as if it would ease the tension. It did not. He let out a long breath. “Aziraphale, you’re the least common person I’ve ever met. What I’ve really come here to do is, is to beg for your forgiveness.”

“You have nothing to forgive, Crowley.”

“But I do! Aziraphale, I love you. I meant everything I said at the gazebo. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I mean, I didn’t even let you explain your side of things! That was wrong of me. I just got so confused with everything, and I let it cloud my judgement. Azirapahle, please, please come home.” 

“You don’t understand, Crowley. I’m not like you. I have no home. Not anymore, at least.” Once again, Aziraphale thought about the manor he had grown up in. It made his eyes prickle. 

Slowly, Crowley walked closer towards him and grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist with a shaking hand. Crowley placed it against his chest. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s heart racing beneath his ribs. “Angel,” he whispered. “Please come home.” Aziraphale let out a sob as he realized what Crowley meant, what he was actually saying. 

Crowley turned to the leather satchel that hung around his chest and unbuttoned it. From it, he pulled out a flower crown made of baby’s breath. “This halo belongs to an angel. I betrayed your trust, and for that I will never forgive myself. If you’ll have me, if you’d like to be _my angel_ , I would cherish the opportunity to make it up to you forever.”

Aziraphale reached his hand out to touch the white petals. “I can’t believe you kept that.”

“How could I not?” Crowley smiled, placing it on Aziraphale’s head. “You wearing it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aziraphale drew him into a kiss. It was warm and tender and made all the muscles in his body relax. Aziraphale then pulled away from him. “What would your father say about us?”

“I’ve already spoken to him. He knows that you’re the reason for the education plan. He said he’d be quite pleased to have someone with your intelligence close by.” He intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “I also threatened to abdicate if he said no.”

Laughing, Aziraphale lifted him into his arms and spun him around. Crowley looked at him hopefully. “So, is that a yes?” 

Aziraphale set him back down, cupping Crowley’s face in both of his hands. “Yes! Of course, of course it is! Oh, my love!” He showered his face and neck with eager kisses. 

Crowley undid the chain he was wearing around his neck. Two wedding bands hung from it, one was a coiled serpent, the other a golden pair of wings. He carefully took them off and, with a trembling hand, slid the gold ring on Aziraphale’s finger. It fit perfectly.

_____________________________________

Crowley never believed in the idea of marital bliss until he held it for himself. It was euphoria waking up with a warm, soft Aziraphale wrapped around him. It was an elation strolling through the market with Aziraphale in the morning, plotting where the library should go. It was perfection when Aziraphale would dismiss the entire kitchen staff to cook special dishes for him. 

They sat out in the garden enjoying crepes Aziraphale had made, their hands clasped together. Crowley turned to Aziraphale and admired his profile. He felt nothing but love while staring at his slightly upturned nose and listening to the hums of pleasure he made while eating. “Angel, did you ever imagine your life being like this?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Honestly, no. I've been alone most of my life. I never thought I’d be able to find this much happiness for myself. It’s almost unbelievable.”

“It’s fate, is what it is.” Crowley paused to kiss him. “When people are meant to be together things always work out. I’m sure it’s built into the universe or something like that.”

Aziraphale was grinning. “Well dear, I’m glad the universe cares enough to keep us in mind.”

“Probably helps that you’re my universe.” Crowley waggled his eyebrows cheesily. 

Aziraphale tutted. “Darling, that was dreadfully cliche.”

Crowley shrugged. “Maybe it was, but you know you love it.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s face close to his. “I do. I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap! For those interested, I’m currently writing a High School AU that I plan on publishing within the next week or two. Not sure if I want it to be husbands or wives and I would love to get your input if you'd be willing to take a poll. 
> 
> https://forms.gle/ozmyJapJRqpwjyn86
> 
> If that’s something you’d be interested in feel free to stay tuned!


	10. Picture from the Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a picture by pulp_fricktion on instagram. You should totally follow her if you don't already!

Aziraphale at the masquerade.


End file.
